Big 'Ol Box Full Of Plot Bunnies
by RhysThornbery
Summary: Basically a place to store story ideas until I can make something of them at a later date.
1. Chapter 1

" _An Obscurus is the unfortunate and tragic culmination and manifestation of the repressed energy of an abused magical child (known as an Obscurial). Typically (and somewhat inaccurately) described as a "dark" and "parasitic" force, an Obscurus is created when the child in question is forced to repress their talent as a result of extensive physical or psychological abuse. This magical energy is capable of manifesting itself as a separate entity that can erupt in violent, destructive fury against those who threaten its host"_

-Excerpt from redacted section of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them: By Newt Scamander

* * *

 **July 31, 2006 AD**

 **Number 4 Privet Drive**

 **Little Whinging, Surrey**

 **United Kingdom**

There was little sound within the small unremarkable house that was Number 4 Privet Drive anymore, save for the occasional, brief crash and clatter of broken masonry as sections of the damaged home collapsed. Once, this building had been the domicile of four people, though it could only have been referred to as a 'home' to three of them. And that was where the trouble began.

Vernon and Petunia Dursley, and their son Dudley, were 'perfectly normal, thank you very much' as they liked to say. Sadly this was far from the truth. Oh, they were people who by most classical definitions were not particularly of note, being neither physically noteworthy people, nor were they particularly distinguished in terms of career or upbringing. In fact the only thing of note about them, though they were loath to admit it, was that they were, or at least had been, associated with people who were extraordinary.

You see, Petunia Dursley had once been a girl by the name of Petunia Evans. The sister of an extraordinary young woman, Lily, who could wield that supernatural force known as 'magic'. Petunia had not gotten along with her sister, and had been disturbingly pleased to learn that her sister had met her end in a magical conflict some years before. At least she would have been pleased, but someone had dumped her sister's child on her doorstep for her to look after.

This was, needless to say, a recipe for disaster if ever there was one. One should never consider it acceptable to deposit a child in the care of someone who has many reasons to hate them merely for existing. And that was before the child had begun to exhibit the same magic as his mother.

Oh, they had been warned of course, the child was special, and deep magics called into being by his mother's sacrifice provided protection to the child even now. Sadly Petunia, and by extension her family, paid little mind to those warnings. Her bitterness towards her sister had become like a disease in her mind, warping her thinking, and her behaviour turned her husband and child against her relative as well.

The child, a little boy by the name of Harry, was a scrawny thing, being fed little and poorly cared for, he had a scar upon his head, a permanent reminder of the events which had claimed his mother's life. In truth 'Harry' did not know for certain that was in fact his name. He'd only recently come to be referred to by that moniker. The consequence of his first year at school.

Usually he was called 'Freak' or 'Boy', depending on how vicious his relatives were feeling that day. And that really should tell you all you need to know about how affairs had come to this point.

The fact of the matter was, Harry was abused, first it had been neglect, and verbal insults, but as the otherness about him began to mature until it was no longer possible to deny it escalated to physical violence. And with that violence came hatred. Hatred was seldom something a child so young can expect to feel, but feel it he did. For his relatives who treated him so of course, for those who saw him everyday at school and yet could not see what was happening, but most of all, for himself.

To little Harry, the root cause of all his suffering had to be whatever it was that made these strange things happen about him. Things like making objects move, and accidentally ending up on the roof sometimes when hiding from his relatives.

And that hatred, was just as foul and dangerous as that his relatives directed against him, for his magic began to turn inwards as he desired more and more for it to simply vanish and never return. An unhealthy state of affairs any knowledgeable magical could have warned against.

It all came to a head, on the night of Harry's birthday. Not that his relatives had ever informed him of the day's significance. He'd been surprised when he'd learned the date from a well intentioned but absent minded school teacher earlier that year. That the school teacher had apparently been unconcerned that a child didn't know his own birthday was ignored in the wake of his discovery.

This had to be his worst birthday to date as, as fortune would have it, Vernon's sister 'Marge' had come to visit. A much hated event for Harry, which occurred once or twice a year. Marge was, quite on her own the most unpleasant woman he'd ever met, and that was counting his aunt and uncle.

Dudley had gone off to stay at a friends for the evening, apparently having become bored with the constant inane and often vitriolic chatter of his parents and aunt. Leaving Harry, hidden though he was in the cupboard under the stairs he called home.

As the evening had pressed on, drinks had been poured and with it, his relatives tempers had been stoked, none of them being what one could refer to as a 'Happy Drunk'. The result for poor Harry had been predictable, and a short time after being dragged bodily from his little room things had come to their inevitable conclusion.

Now, were someone to look into Number Four, they would find a shattered ruin, barely holding up the roof overhead. Piles of rubble littered the floor, along with the bodies of his Aunt, Uncle and Marge. Of Marge's rather nasty pet bulldog, 'Ripper', there was no sign. And in the midst of this? A thick black miasma or mist which clung to every surface swirling in nonexistent winds. Poor little Harry's magic had run away on him.

* * *

For those who do not understand, it shall be explained. When a child's magic turns inward and they desire with all their hearts, nothing so much as that their magic would go away entirely, a curious and terrible phenomena is created. An Obscurus. An energy life form, comprised of the magic of that unfortunate child. It both feeds on that magic and requires it to exist. But it is more complicated than that. An Obscurus is the culmination of a child's desire to end their suffering. Many would tell you an Obscurus is nothing more than a raw untameable force, a parasitic life-form which exists only to destroy. And in some way this is true. After all an Obscurus will feed and become more powerful destroying all in its path until they drain their host dry and the child dies.

The real truth of it is more complicated, an Obscurus, the abused child's magic given form, exists to carry out its host's will. And in the case of these poor beleaguered children such as Harry, the first order of business is to stop those who have caused the child to suffer—by any means necessary.

And thus it was, that on this night in Number 4, the Obscurus which had formed from little Harry's magic, was feeling pretty satisfied with itself. At least at first. It had slain those who had caused its host to suffer after all. However it found, much to its rather simple mind's consternation that its host was more terrified than ever. It sought to comfort the child, drawing into a tight ball around little Harry, cradling him, only to be somewhat flummoxed when this did not work to settle him any. What more could it do?

It was then, as it examined its terrified host, that it became aware of a sound repeating over and over again. The child's voice. It took some time for the magical entity to come to understand the meanings of the sounds, not being truly equipped to understand language as such…But when it did it realized something. While Harry was terrified of the destruction it had caused to protect him, the child had one overriding desire. Little Harry wished he had his parents there to protect him.

At first this confused the Obscurus. After all it didn't think little Harry's caregivers were very good, hence why it had killed them. It slowly came to understand, its existence affixed as it was to Harry's magic and mind, that he didn't desire these ones to once again live, he instead desired for those who had birthed him to return.

Now, had this been the end of it, that would have been simpler. And it took some time for the entity to find a solution. Enough time that someone, a rather befuddled old man in a strangely coloured robe, had come to investigate the commotion and, upon attempting to interfere with the entity's doings was swiftly, and ruthlessly…eliminated.

It was during this abortive _assault_ , as that same person failed in an attempt to use their own magic to disappear in the face of the Obscurus' attack, resulting in their demise, that the wards protecting little Harry flared dramatically, and a solution presented itself. The Obscurus had missed it at first, the thin tendrils of magic, not Harry's own, that connected its host to the wards. Blood Magic, fuelled by his mother's blood.

Obscurus, it should be noted are not like witches and wizards, their magic does not rely upon incantations and spells, it is a primal thing based on desire and emotion. Which really does go a long way to explaining why they spend so much time smashing everything in sight. This does not mean however that such an approach is the only one available to them.

The Obscurus tied to little Harry reached out to feel those tendrils, probing, questing and inquiring, and was fairly pleased with what it found in the magic's slowly fading song. Harry wished for his parents, and while unfortunately there was nothing of his father in this magic, his mother was another matter…

Her magic, her blood, her love and her very soul were all wrapped up in the protections she'd woven around her child. Where Harry's father was gone from this world entirely, save for his love for his child, unanchored by magics connected to his child, Harry's mother was not yet gone. Not entirely.

The Obscurus pondered this, pointedly ignoring the arrival of others in red trenchcoats outside the wards. It could work with this it supposed, but it would require a lot of magic, no, not just a lot. All of it. Every ounce of magic that currently made up its existence and a good deal more besides would be required. This caused the Obscurus to pause, the magics it would utilize would consume it in the process. And were the Obscurus any other being, it might have baulked at such a notion. However, one should be reminded, it existed to protect little Harry. And if its 'life', such as it was, could be sold to provide little Harry with what he truly wished for? Then such was of little concern.

Now. Where to begin? Ah, perhaps it should see to making the trenchcoated ones run away? They were getting bold, nothing could be allowed to interfere with its work.

* * *

Newt Scamander, Magizoologist in the employ of the British Ministry of Magic, frowned slightly before nervously running a hand back through his unruly silver-grey hair in agitation. Watching unhappily as the Obscurus, as that was the only thing it could be, lashed out and swept into an whirlwind about the house it emanated from, causing the wizards who had created a cordon about the residence to scurry back in fear.

"Any ideas Mister Scamander?" An Auror Captain, an attractive redhead called Amelia asked. "I really hope you know what it is we're dealing with because—"

He nodded sharply, cutting her off, though not unkindly. "It's an Obscurus Auror Captain," He grimaced sympathetically at her, as she winced when she recognized the term. "I suspect that inside that house somewhere is a rather terrified child who has had a rather terrible day. I hope I don't need to tell you not to order your men to cast upon it?"

She shook her head shakily, "No, you don't. I'll make sure they all hold their spells. I already have inquiries coming from higher up the chain, though. Dawn will be here soon and with it more muggles…"

He considered that, and was about to speculate on the point when the seething black mass within the damaged house's windows flashed to red and began to whirl about even more rapidly. Now _that_ was strange…

"Curious, I've never seen a red Obscurus before…" He muttered before slowly beginning to pace towards the ward line. It was only as a series of cracks rent the air that he paused to look behind him.

There, striding towards him were some people he could have done without today. First of course was the rather pompous, bustling form of the Minister. But with her were also Bartemius Crouch and a trio of 'Unspeakables'.

"Ah, Newt, my young friend, could I inquire as to what is happening here?" Bagnold asked hurrying over to him.

Newt had to stifle the urge to sigh explosively, Bagnold had never impressed him as a Minister, and she was uncomfortably familiar in her address at times, adopting a sense of false bonhomie with those she was attempting to cajole into seeing her way. "An Obscurus Minister." He answered shortly. "A rather odd one, as it's just seen fit to change colour after chasing off the Aurors who got too close. I'm afraid I know little more than that at present and would request that you stand back while I try to approach without frightening whoever is playing host to the thing."

"Ah, very strange indeed! Perhaps it might be wise for one of the Unspeakables to—" Bagnold began.

"No," He said shortly gazing steadily at the woman. "Protocol is strictly against more than one person at a time approaching an Obscurus/Obscurial pairing. Not only does it minimize casualties should things go wrong, more than one person present can agitate the host causing the creature to lash out. You know the rules Minister. Besides, I trust I need not tell you why I prefer powerful and inquisitive wizards to keep away from such creatures?"

Newt's superior winced, remembering the Barebones incident. "Ah, yes of course. Say no more, it had simply slipped my mind, but surely you must know they would never harm the…host in such a way as Grindlewald did?"

He shrugged noncommittally, shooting the grey-cloaked figures a pointed look. "Perhaps, just the same I prefer to err on the side of caution."

"Ah, very well then. I would appreciate a report as soon as you have resolved the situation my dear." Bagnold said, looking somewhat nonplussed by his attitude thus far.

"I would as well Mister Scamander." Grumped Barty Crouch as he stumped up looking particularly surly. "Any sign of Dumbledore yet? I'm surprised the old busybody hasn't appeared."

He stared at them both, expression carefully neutral. Ignoring the question about the Headmaster and Chief Warlock. "You'll receive my report as soon as I've compiled it. Which should be just in time for you to hear it along with the rest of the Wizengamot in the morning. Now, please, if there are no further interruptions, might I start my work?" He asked pointedly, while keeping his tone studiously polite.

Bagnold blinked in surprise at the mild rebuke before nodding, "Very well, Perhaps Barty we would be best served to go speak to Amelia. Hopefully once that is all done Newt'll have enough to brief us?" Newt heard as he turned away and started once more towards the house.

It was odd the Minister was so…insistent, Newt didn't like it, but had more important things to worry about at present. Was it just him or had the swirling mists within settled somewhat? Worrisome.

He continued towards the ward line before stopping to regard the sole Auror who remained nearby, the familiar and somewhat rough and tumble visage of Alastor Moody. "Mad Eye." He greeted eyeing the wards suspiciously. They were pulsing, and red rivulets were beginning to form on its interior surface, running down like drops of water to meet the ground where it ran inwards towards the house.

"Newt," Mad Eye Moody greeted gruffly. "Going in are you?"

He nodded slowly, "Hopefully, these wards are strange though, will they impede me from entering?"

Mad Eye huffed irritably, before shaking his head. "No, from what I'm seeing they only affect those who attempt to enter with hostile intent. Well, save for the enemy repelling one which stretches out about a mile all around…Would like to know who made these wards though. I'd like a _word_ with them…"

Newt paused considering the steely expression on the old Auror's face. "Why, is there something wrong with them?"

Moody nodded, "Blood Magic boy, highly illegal that. Not only that, but they've been placed on a muggle dwelling near as can be told. I want to know what nutcase has been meddling in things they ought not to. I'd also like to know who the dead wizard in the doorway is…" he said jerking his head towards the house. "Can't make out the details from here."

Newt shuddered slightly, Blood Magic, not something one meddled with lightly, he'd only run into it once before and that had been more than enough. He also didn't like that sinking feeling he had in his gut that these blood wards might very well be related to the Obscurus' change in colour and demeanour. That there was a dead wizard on scene was far from comforting.

"Very well, wish me luck I suppose." Newt said moving towards the ward. He heard Mad Eye grumble a brief acknowledgement before carefully raising his foot and stepping through the boundary, cautiously stepping over the pool of ichor welling about the ward's base. It was as he stepped through the ward that the scent finally met his nose. Blood Magic indeed, the metallic scent of it permeated the air as small streams of it ran across the ground away from the ward line and towards the ruined house. He tried not to shiver at the sight of the blood running up the steps and into the house, moving in a way no liquid should.

He carefully picked his way across the grass, stepping on patches of ground not occupied by the crimson pools and tributaries snaking their way towards the house. It took a good minute before he made it to the front step, and that was enough time for him to observe a notable change around him.

The Obscurus, whose crimson mists had been pooling somewhat outside the house had been steadily withdrawing within its confines as he approached, tightening and coalescing into a more solid cloud as he approached, a low rumble filling the air.

He stepped through the door and nearly tripped when his foot ran into an obstacle. There on the floor, fallen on his side and tangled in a mass of obnoxiously coloured robes was Albus Dumbledore. He stared down at the fallen man for a moment, trying to ignore his wide staring eyes and the way his hand clutched at his wand even in death. "Well, that explains why he didn't show up outside I suppose." Newt muttered, shuddering.

Dumbledore was a powerful and skilled wizard, that he'd run afoul of this Obscurus in such a way was…distressing. Newt swallowed thickly. Before stepping over the body of his former headmaster. A part of his desperately wished to draw his wand, but he knew full well that the Obscurus might interpret such a thing as an aggressive move on his part. Something which might well prove fatal for him.

It was only as he stepped into the living room that he caught sight of the Obscurus again, but that was not all he saw. True enough, there in the centre of the living room was the great, eddying, crimson sphere of Obscurus. Spinning slowly in the air near silently above a pair of forms on the ground.

The first was clearly the child he'd been looking for. A small lad, perhaps 5 or six years of age, curled up in a ball, whimpering softly to himself, while rocking on the floor, too afraid to move away from where he found himself.

It was the other form which concerned him more. At first he had trouble telling just what it was he was looking at. The blood which flowed even now about his feet across the floor was gathering and coalescing into a solid shape on the floor directly beneath the obscurus which as he watched reached out and touched it almost as if caressing or perhaps sculpting it from the red ichor which was coming together to form it.

It took a moment, and more than a couple confused blinks before his brain made sense of what it was seeing.

The form, half concealed as it was by the blood flowing over it and the probing touches of the obscurus above, was that of a woman, naked and shivering as more and more ichor ran up over her skin before absorbing into it. A woman with red hair and startling green eyes which were fixed upon the child before her.

He was transfixed by the sight before him, pinned in place by shock and not a little fear.

Then, a low tone split the air, and Newt was surprised to see that the Obscurus seemed to be rapidly thinning, losing its substance as it repeatedly made that gentle contact with the woman on the ground. Before his very eyes it seemed to fall apart breaking into tendrils which slowly drifted downwards into the woman before finally disappearing entirely.

It was then, as he stood thoroughly unfooted by what he was witnessing that the woman began to move. It started as a twitch, then a small jerk before her hand slowly stretched out, questing for that of the child still curled up on the floor across from her.

Newt cast another glance around the room taking in the destruction before taking a cautious step towards the pair on the floor, his briefcase clutched tightly before him. He wasn't entirely sure just what he intended to do, even his wide breadth of experience not preparing him for this strange situation.

It was then that he heard the woman speak, "Harry," she breathed, her hand coming into contact with the boy's own. "Harry, it's okay honey."

The boy stilled at the contact, and she spoke again, her tone soothing, but so very weary. "Harry, nobody will hurt you anymore. Its okay, mama's here."

Newt swallowed, not certain just what it was he was witnessing as the child opened his eyes to peer uncertainly at the woman. Still he felt he should do something. "Um…" He paused clearing his throat, which caused both figures to give a start. "Hello, I'm sorry to disturb you but…well things are not entirely safe here, I think we should get you away from all this." He said indicating the ruined building around him. As though to punctuate his point, a piece of broken ceiling fell through onto the floor with a bang.

The woman's eyes fixed on his own and he shivered at the intensity of the stare. "Who are you?" She croaked, her voice rough from apparent disuse. "What are you doing here?"

He cleared his throat uneasily. Not sure what to make of the woman, especially as he could still see the last few rivulets of blood sliding across the floor towards her, joining their substance with her own. "I'm uh…that is to say, my name is Newt Scamander, and I am…" He trailed off as her eyes sharpened.

"You're the head Magizoologist for the Ministry, I know of you, yes." She said, before turning back to regard the still frightened eyes of the child, reaching out with a hand to gently caress his face. "You are here to deal with the Obscurus."

He nodded slowly. "Yes…er, ma'am, I suppose I am, though I confess to not being entirely certain what just happened to it." He paused, regarding her, then realized quite to his mortification that he was in effect staring at a naked woman. "Er—goodness me, I apologize. Let me help you!" He said, it finally permeating his brain that the worst of the danger was likely past. He slowly pulled out his wand and conjured a robe for the woman, earning a small gasp of fright from the child before Newt offered it to her, trying not to stare at her for decencies sake.

She, hummed soothingly running a hand down the side of the child's face again before slowly pushing herself into a sitting position and taking the robe from his hands gratefully. "Its okay Harry, he's not going to hurt you, and Vernon's not here to make a fuss about things like that."

Newt wondered just who Vernon was, and why he'd have made a fuss, but didn't say anything, it was clear the child was still nervous, Newt didn't need to make him more so when the mother seemed to be doing a good job of soothing him.

She slowly pulled the robe on and tightened it around herself before kneeling beside the child. "Oh honey," she breathed brushing a bit of the boys hair from his face. "What have they done to you…" She then reached down and carefully gathered the unresisting child into her arms, hugging him tightly to herself.

It was only then as she cradled the child that the boy finally spoke. "Mama? You're…my mama?" He asked tentatively.

"Yes honey, it's really me. Everything's going to be alright." She promised.

Newt wasn't certain of that, as he still had no earthly clue what had just happened, but he wasn't about to contradict her in this case.

It was then that another voice called out to them from outside. "Newt? Are you alright, the wards just came down!" Came a familiar and very welcome voice. That of his wife, Tina.

He saw the look the red haired woman gave him and correctly interpreted it, she wasn't ready for them to get swarmed by outsiders. "Just a moment please!" He called back, before turning his attention back to the woman before him. "If you don't mind I'd like to invite her in, she's my wife you see, and she does worry so."

She hesitated before nodding shortly. "She can come in, but nobody else."

He nodded seriously and called out again. "Come in Tina, just you please!"

There was a pause then the sounds of footsteps outside and a gasp as she ran into the body of the former Chief Warlock by the door. Finally, a couple moments later his wife stepped into the room and came up short at the sight before her.

"Newt, are you alright?" She asked. "I heard there was an Obscurus!"

He nodded, stretching out a hand to her, inviting her to come closer. "There was, though it seems to be gone now. I'm afraid I don't know just what happened here." He admitted before turning to regard the woman still on the floor cradling the child. "I don't suppose you might be able to explain what happened here? Can you perhaps tell me who you are."

The woman snorted slightly, but kept gently caressing her child's face. "I think you have a good idea what happened to my son here mister Scamander." She chided, and he nodded agreement, he could certainly hazard a reasonable guess. "As for who I am? My name is Lily Potter, and this is my son, Harry."


	2. Plot Bunny 2 Part 1

**Author's Note:** I'm glad you all enjoyed the last Plot Bunny. Here's another one, or rather the first of a two part plot bunny.

I want to do something I never have before. I want to challenge everyone of my readers. The challenge is simple. Start writing. Write a story, any story. Add your creativity to the world. Now, I know many of you will say that you're no good at writing. Let me tell you something, my first attempts at writing (which are no longer on this site) were terrible. They had bad grammar, poor spelling, worse punctuation and I had little concept of a coherent plot. My point? Only a very rare few individuals actually start out as good solid writers. Most of us have to work and scrape and exhaust ourselves to become even halfway decent writers. But we'd never have gotten even that far if we didn't try. So again, I challenge you to do just that. Try your hand at writing. Tell your stories, send your messages, and show the world how you feel. And I know some of you will be afraid to show your work, a justifiable fear considering how harsh some people can be. If you can't show it to the internet I'd encourage you to show it to someone you trust not to belittle you. But for those of you who can stand to post it where others can see it, keep going, even when people criticize, ESPECIALLY when people criticize. Don't let them snuff out that creative spark in you. Keep writing, if only to spite those mean spirited people who tell you to stop, to not even bother. And when you are eventually writing good solid stories, that people are enjoying, rejoice in the fact that you proved all those idiots wrong. Then keep going. Keep creating.

I know, I got a little long winded there, but I feel it was an important message for me to give. I may post it again in some of my other stories as time permits.

Otherwise. I hope you all enjoy this plot bunny.

* * *

An interesting…quirk of the human psyche is that one can know something to be an incontrovertible fact and yet at the very same time not truly believe it in spite of it. For example, when you hear an explosion, particularly if you are adapted to an environment in which such things are common, you might understand how a person might come to be in the habit of believing an explosion always results in death.

Harry James Potter knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, that just because he'd heard an explosion didn't mean someone had necessarily died. This did not however stop him from wincing slightly in sympathy every time he heard one.

He'd come to be something of a macabre connoisseur when it came to eardrum shattering detonations. He recognized the telltale muffled "crump" sound of a grenade, or the deep "thoom" of a rocket strike, he'd even become acquainted with the scream and thunder of an explosive curse or the distinctive "pop, pop, pop" of a Kalashnikov rifle.

Years of fighting all manner of enemies had indelibly imprinted these things into his mind, never to be forgotten.

Had you asked him about this phenomena in the past, he likely would have assumed, like most people, that given enough time he would get used to it and that after a while it would no longer really touch him. Unfortunately it seemed this wasn't the case. He felt a pang of grief with each death he witnessed. Just as he always had.

He rolled over on his cot, trying to block out the noise echoing in from the distance when a bone jarring thump was heard through the walls of his quarters.

That was undoubtedly the L30A1 120mm rifled cannon mounted on his detachment's aging Challenger II, the _Beast_ as the men under his command had christened it. Judging by the sound of that shot, the Tank was about a block away at most. Likely assisting that platoon he'd dispatched across the bridge to dig out that nest of holdouts on the opposite bank of the Thames.

He was _trying_ to get some sleep in his quarters deep within the field HQ of the King's First Magical Fusiliers. _Trying_ being the operative word.

 _The First_ , as he thought of them, was his personal division of the combined armed forces. It's current HQ was nestled in the crater and ruins of the Palace of West Minster. He tried not to think about how many engineers he had working to try and keep Big Ben from crashing down on their encampment.

The King himself, and what remained of the Royal family was hunkered down with a full mechanized division at Buckingham Fortress.* It wasn't all that far away from his current position really when it came down to it.

He tried to shake off these musings as he lay there on his cot. He couldn't seem to help himself though, he would probably always think like a tactician he supposed. In terms of strongholds, supply depots, redoubts, patrol routes and ammo dumps.

It was still a foreign thought that soon, quite possibly within twenty four hours actually, he might not need to think like that anymore. It was hard to believe.

He'd finally done it. He'd won, it was over, he had beaten the unholy bastard known as Voldemort.

He rolled his eyes at that, _Victory_ had only come only forty years too late. _Such a damn waste._ He thought to himself.

Harry had fought his nemesis, less than twelve hours ago, for the final time in the heart of Hyde Park. It was the largest single engagement he'd taken part in many years.

Voldemort and his few remaining elite guardsmen, the much hated Death Eaters, his army of followers, and close to two hundred mercenaries. Against him, a half company of exhausted Royal Army Riflemen and a squad of resistance Aurors.

They'd been lured out of cover to chase down an enemy patrol. It had been a trap, no two ways about it, and he'd fallen for it. The way those hostiles had led them out into the open like that, it should have been obvious. But he supposed, looking back, that in all likelihood exhaustion had been getting to him just as much as it had been to his troops.

 _Still, we fought like tigers_ , he reflected proudly to himself.

In the end Voldemort couldn't resist the chance to try his luck and once again they had faced each other. For the first time in years.

He'd taunted him, he remembered, Voldemort that was. "The years have not been kind to you Harry Potter. Feeling a little tired, a little old?"

Tom never had understood the benefit associated with growing older, he feared death too much for it to be otherwise. With age, and the understanding of mortality came a different outlook on life.

War had ravaged Harry's body, he wasn't the same person he had been a few years ago. Tom had not counted on the changes in his long time foe's demeanour.

Harry was no innocent any longer. He'd delved into magics long forgotten, into libraries even Tom had never heard of. In his battle against Voldemort, here at the end of things, he'd wielded magics his enemy could not imagine the old Harry Potter would dare use.

And in the end it had cost him. Voldemort had lost, Harry Potter had unmade the greatest villain in Britain's history. Burning him away leaving nothing but a smoking husk of glowing ash and embers.

 _All too late…_ He supposed, as he lay there staring at the ceiling. It would always be far too late. He had a book, a small black leather bound journal, in which he wrote the names of those who he had personally known, who died in this horrific conflict

The book was only half full. Names not taking up much space on a page generally.

Except for the last few pages which he'd devoted to those he would miss most of all. Hermione Granger, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Luna and Xenophilius Lovegood, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, Daphne Greengrass, Neville Longbottom, Minerva Mcgonagall, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Filius Flitwick….The list went on and on by his reckoning.

The Weasleys, his second family, had died in the various early conflicts, or in the second battle for the Burrow. The ministry provided wards crumbling and allowing the Death Eaters to catch them before they could escape. Relatively merciful deaths in comparison to some in the war. Killed by curse fire in the defence of their home.

Luna…She'd died helping to protect a group of muggle children caught in the crossfire during the evacuation of London. The children had escaped, but she had not.

Xeno had passed a week later, in a battle, attempting to avenge his daughter. Harry always had underestimated the man. But he would always remember that Xenophilius had taken six Death Eaters with him into the beyond.

Susan and Hannah had been lost in the battle for Manchester. Holding a position so the rest of their company could retreat and dig in. Successfully preventing the enemy from gaining a foothold in that region of the city.

Daphne and her sister Astoria…there deaths had been less merciful. They'd been captured by Death Eaters. Neville, Daphne's boyfriend had died trying to rescue her, even though it was already too late.

Mcgonagall, she'd died in the second battle for Hogwarts. Taking a great number of Death Eaters with her.

Tonks and Lupin were slain in the battle that ended Greyback's pack of werewolves near Birmingham.

Flitwick had been lost only two years ago, in the Death Eater's abortive attempt to seize Gringotts and it's vast stores of mineral and fiscal wealth. He and nearly five hundred Goblin warriors and enchanters had given their lives in defence of their kingdom. The enemy had paid twice as dearly.

Hermione Granger…The most painful loss of all by his reckoning. His best friend. And nearly so much more when it came down to it. He'd intended to finally tell her how he felt, only for her to be killed later that same day. In a skirmish over a lousy supply drop. She'd been his best friend, his closest confidant for years, and the subject of his dreams for time immemorial.

He'd have confessed how he felt sooner but had been afraid, so he'd held off. Until it was too late.

So much could have been different, had he gotten the courage to speak with her sooner about how he felt…he could have had years with her, maybe decades. But in the end he truly had been too late. She had died in his arms. There was no going back now—

He was shaken from these maudlin thoughts by a polite cough from the doorway. He looked over to see it was Lieutenant Sarah Markland. A dutiful and tactically talented woman. His liaison with the British SAS and probably the best executive officer he'd had in decades. Despite her relatively low rank. The war effort was short of high ranking officers these days.

He rolled upright, brushing his hand through the stubble on his head. "Yes Lieutenant?

She saluted, "Lord Major, you have visitors. They've been cleared by High Comm."

He sighed, _no rest for the wicked it seems_. He nodded to the Lieutenant. "Very well. I'll be out in a minute." He said in dismissal. She nodded and stepped out.

His quarters, such as they were, had once been a janitors office. That was back before the palace had been largely destroyed in the war.

He stumbled over to the old wash basin and splashed some water in his face, in the hopes it would wake him up somewhat. In times past he'd have just used a pepper up potion and been done with it. But he couldn't do that anymore.

It was for two reasons really. First, the potions ingredients market was all but non-existent in Great Britain these days. There being no truly intact herboligist organizations or growers associations. Therefore what materials they could get their hands on were reserved for more vital draughts and such.

The second reason was because it turned out chronic use of the stuff was harder on your system than you might think. His doctors had recommended avoiding the stuff some time ago, unless he wanted to risk his heart exploding in his chest. _What irony that would be, kill Voldemort, only to die of a heart attack the next day…._

He looked himself over in the small, dingy and cracked mirror above the basin. _Merlin, I look like crap._ He reflected sourly. At least to his own estimations. Some of the more positive or possibly sycophantic officers in his command insisted he was a dead ringer for Clint Eastwood…

Which upon reflection might not actually have been a compliment, given what he remembered of the actor from back in the day and the fact the man had been far older than he. All of it, the result of a little over nine years of shite road.

He'd turned twenty four a couple months back. Honestly he'd all but forgotten how old he actually was, things like birthdays becoming inconsequential.

Time had done anything but fly by in all that time. He stood a little straighter as he dried his face off and decided against shaving today.

He shook his head looking away from his ugly scarred mug reflected in the glass and headed for the door. _I don't just look like crap, I feel like it too._ He noted soberly rolling his shoulders to encourage various aches and such to depart.

His bones ached, his muscles weren't much better, and he had a permanent limp. The consequence of living a goodly portion of his life in a state of total war. Still, better a limp and some aches and pains to being dead he supposed. He'd outlasted his enemy, that was something right?

Not that any of it mattered now. His mission was complete. Theoretically he could go home and relax now. Problem was he no longer knew what relaxation really felt like, and any place he had considered calling home had long since been blasted to splinters in one battle or another.

He stumped his way into the war room, what had at one time been one of the palace's smaller lunch rooms.

Lieutenant Markland was standing by one of the tables, across from a quartet of people in surprisingly immaculate suits.

He couldn't help but snort a little at this, someone had decided to sic the bureaucrats on him had they? He'd faced worse.

He made his way over to the table and snagged the cup of coffee the lieutenant held out to him. He surveyed those across from his as he waited expectantly for a greeting.

The first three had the air of former soldiers about them, something in the way they stood and presented themselves. None appeared truly comfortable in business attire, maybe not bureaucrats after all…Spooks? At least the woman in front was, grey eyes dark hair, maybe the other three were operatives then? Those jackets could certainly conceal weapons.

The final one, a woman, and apparently the spokesperson, was different. Clearly not a warrior, and honestly she reminded him a bit painfully of Luna Lovegood. Back in her early years. Wild fly away hair, though in this case it was dark instead of blonde. Wide expressive eyes, and an awkward almost sheepish smile. He knew if he had been more inclined towards such things he might have dwelt on her being something of a looker.

He finally broke the silence, grumbling a greeting and setting down his mug of coffee on the table a touch less gently than was necessary. She nodded, clearly getting his message loud and clear, stepping forward and almost tripping in her enthusiasm. "Yes good day, Lord Major Potter correct?" Harry was interested to note her accent. It wasn't of any variety he recognized at first blush.

He nodded easily. "Yeah, that'd be me." he agreed pleasantly enough.

She bobbed her head happily, smiling all the while. "We just need a moment of your time sir, and then we'll be on our way."

"Well, you've got my attention what do you want?" He winced a bit at sounding sharper than he'd intended.

The woman gave that sheepish grin again. If the other woman was a spook, this woman's person screamed analyst with every fibre of her being. "Er—As certain as I am that your division is trustworthy sir. What we have to discuss is strictly confidential. For your ears only." She apologized.

He considered them. He knew of the three it was the other two who were dangerous, not her. Still he knew how to fight, so the threat was likely fairly minimal. And if it wasn't. So what? What did he care anymore?

He nodded to Lieutenant Markland. "Give us the room for a minute."

She saluted and began wrangling the others in the room and guiding them out the door. He noted the way the woman across from him eased a bit as the soldiers left. "You going to tell me who you are?"

She chuckled grinning again, "Not just yet sir."

She moved around the table as the door closed behind his staff. It was odd, again it struck him how similar she was to Luna as she all but skipped around the table coming to a stop in front of him. "Just one thing to take care of before we begin. A reminder if you will." She assured him smiling enigmatically. "Nothing comes without a cost. Just remember that when you get back and it'll make sense soon enough. We'll be waiting."

Then quite to his surprise she reached out with a single finger, he tried not to wince at the familiarity of her posture. But she was quick. Ever so gently her finger made the barest of contact with the flesh between his eyes as he attempted to flinch away. "Boop!"

The world went dark.

*Yes I am aware Buckingham is a palace, with negligible features that could be considered "Fortifications" in the traditional sense. At this point in time, Buckingham palace has been fortified by the Royal Army. Bunkers, pillboxes, razor wire, wards, guard trolls—the works.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I hope you enjoyed that! Please review and comment.


	3. Plot Bunny 2 Part 2

**Author's Note:** No long message this time. Just hope you enjoy part two of this plot bunny.

* * *

"Boop?" Harry asked uncertainly as the world once again resolved into focus. He didn't have time to really reflect on the oddness of that, as quite suddenly, it seemed, he was hurtling towards pavement at surprising velocity; he gripped onto whatever the devil it was he was riding with everything he had, certain he was about to experience a rather abrupt halt to his fall, but the…whatever it was, pulled up at the last moment and touched down on the blacktop, almost like a feather kissing the ground, he slid from it's back whirling about dazedly trying to get his bearings, looking around at the dimly lit street about him, an overflowing trash bin standing a short ways away near a thoroughly defaced telephone box. He hadn't seen one of those in ages, where the bloody hell was he? All of the world around him seemed dim and faded in the low illumination provided by the street lamps around them.

Another form touched down a few feet from him and Harry turned just in time to see another person flop off the creatures back onto the ground. A familiar shock of red hair shaking back and forth in denial.

Harry stared in disbelief at someone who to all appearances seemed to be Ron Weasley. "Never again," the boy croaked, struggling to his feet. He made to stagger away from what could only be a Thestral, but apparently disoriented, only managed to run into it's hindquarters and almost fell once again on his bottom. "Never ever again…" He insisted fervently. "That was the worst—"

An odd feeling of deja vu hit Harry as more of the skeletal horses landed around him, he was certain he'd experienced this before… A pair of feminine figures slid off the first two on either side of him: Both managing to dismount more gracefully than Ron had, though looking to the first Harry noted a similar expression of relief at being back on the ground. Ginny Weasley, as it could only be her, looked more than a little green about the gills. Harry whirled taking in the others around him. A boy, whom he recognized as Neville, or rather a Neville he had once known, jumped down off the horse like creature a little hurriedly, earning a nicker of reproach from his mount. An ethereal girl who must be Luna dismounted her own Thestral smoothly, brushing at something on her clothes as she peered about with interest.

Finally he turned his attention to the last of his companions, almost dreading whom he would see. There standing only a couple feet at most from him, was none other than Hermione Granger. She appeared to be taking stock of herself. A touch wide eyed, just as she had been in his memories of this event, as she patted her self down, seemingly making sure everything was still attached.

She was young, beautiful, and ever so alive. He could hardly believe his eyes.

"Where do we go from here, then?" Luna asked dreamily, her tone implying nothing unusual or untoward about this entire situation. He blinked in consternation, turning his attention, grudgingly, away from Hermione.

"Uh—" He stammered eloquently. What in blazes was going on? This was—This was fifth year, he remembered it clear as day even all these years later. Was he reliving a memory? No this seemed…

He blinked and stepped back as Luna leaned in curiously and attempted to brush away something between his eyes. She smiled brightly at his confused expression. "Sorry Harry, I thought I saw a Nargle attempting to burrow into your head…" this drew confused looks from those around them. She just shrugged. "I think it was just a trick of the light,"

"Er—right then. So, right, where do we go from here Harry?" Ron asked staring perplexed at the slight blonde.

He tried to shake off his confusion, and looked about. If this was fifth year, then they were here looking to get into the Ministry, which meant—he needed more time to figure out what was going on, but his eyes landed on the telephone box. "Uh—right, over here," He said still thoroughly vexed. He paused only briefly in the certain feeling he should give the Thestral he had ridden a quick pat in gratitude for it's service, then leading the way quickly over to the box and opening the door. "Well, come on then?" He suggested to the others, who were hesitating.

Ron and Ginny hurried in immediately; Hermione following soon after, and then in turn followed by Neville and Luna who squashed themselves in last. Harry glanced about, still uncertain just what in the world was going on, his eyes passing over the Thestrals who were picking through the rubbish bin in search of something even vaguely edible, before pushing his way inside after Luna.

He tried to think what to do next, or whether he should do anything at all, it had been years since he'd used this entrance into the Ministry, but he thought… "Whoever can reach the phone, dial—" He racked his brain. "Six two four four two I think it was?" he suggested, uncertain just how it was he still remembered the code after all these years.

"You think it was? Or you know it was?" Ron demanded grouchily.

Harry heard a familiar sigh of exasperation, as Hermione shifted around, "Honestly Ron, let me do it." She had to reach over Ginny who struggled to shift out of the way. The dial whirred back into place one last time and a cool female voice spoke to those crammed in the box.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business." It intoned politely.

Harry considered that. He couldn't remember what he'd said last time, and quite frankly was thoroughly out of sorts. "Er—Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger," He suggested at a pointed look from the latter when he didn't immediately speak. "Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood… we're here to kick the crap out of some death eaters and get my godfather back. Unless the Ministry can get off it's arse and do it for us for a change."

He got a mixture of perplexed and exasperated looks from the others for that, Hermione in particular arched an eyebrow at him questioningly. "Thank you, processing." Said the voice. "Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes. Reminder: abuse of prisoners is strictly forbidden by Ministerial decree!" The voice said pleasantly, eliciting a snort of amusement from one of the others.

"Harry, really?" Grumbled Hermione, her tone a mixture of disapproving exasperation and amusement. Six badges clattered out into the coin return, and Hermione had to fight with them as they wedged somewhat in the small metal chute. Clearly this entrance was not meant to accommodate so many people entering at once. She stretched handing them over Ginny to him; he glanced at the one on top and snorted in amusement. That hadn't happened last time that he could recall. _Harry Potter, Waste Management Specialist._

"Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wands for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the atrium." The voice intoned quietly.

"Um—ok, yeah sure…ow!" he rubbed his head as his scar gave a throb. He hadn't had that happen in years. Not since the second battle of Hogwarts in which he had died for a bit. Either this was an uncanny hallucination or…

He gave a start as the compartment jerked and began to lower into the pavement. Blackness filled the windows of the box as they started down towards the Ministry of Magic. The others shifting uneasily. He once again found himself staring at Hermione who was watching him pensively as she blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and chewed her lip uneasily.

Sod, he both loved and hated when she did that. It had done wild things to his insides all those years ago. Just as they were doing now. "You okay Harry?" She asked, curiously.

He nodded shortly, and rolled his shoulders, a line of light appearing at his feet before thickening and then bursting rising like the tide up their bodies. Harry bent slightly to get a glimpse of the atrium. He seemed to remember it being empty, and it certainly seemed this was still the case this time. The lights were dimmed he noted, simulating the day-night cycle; and the hearths were cold and empty in their alcoves along the walls. He saw, for the first time in what seemed an age the glowing runes and icons twisting and eddying in the dark overhead. Elder Futhark, English Third Age variant, his memory supplied. He'd studied up on ancient runes in the years since his last visits here. Before this place had been turned into a tomb by Voldemort's fiendfyre.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant evening," The voice said before the door released and the lost of them nearly toppled out onto the floor. The atrium was eerily quite, the only sound aside from the those produced by breathing and the shift of their clothing, was that of the water flowing in the golden fountain at the centre of the atrium.

Harry knew this place well, and he knew where he needed to go. he just wasn't sure he wanted to go there anymore. Last time he'd ventured into that Department it had ended in Sirius' death. Was that what this was? Was he in hell, and was being forced to relive his most horrific moments again and again? Or was this something else entirely…

"This way," he decided, taking off at a jog, and hoping the others would follow. They did, just as they had last time. His feelings of disquiet only intensified as they approached the security desk.

He remembered this from last time, the desk had been empty then too. He had been certain it should have been occupied but it wasn't… It was then that a thought occurred to him

Perhaps he could try and see if things could change? If it could, at least this hallucination would go better than reality had. He pinched himself idly as he slowed approaching the desk more closely. The pinch did nothing more than irritate his skin.

He peered around the desk. No sign of the guard. "I wonder where everyone is?"

A cleared throat noise gained his attention and he glanced over to see Hermione nodding her head at something above him pointedly. He looked up and was surprised to find a small sign hanging there. _Out to dinner, back in ten minutes._

He stopped and considered. Last time it had only been them against the Death Eaters, and in all honesty it had been an unmitigated disaster, he had been fortunate at the time that no one besides Sirius had been lost. "Alright…I was thinking, we might need someone to do something here…" He suggested, still uncertain. The other's peered at him curiously and he considered how to put this. "I'd like someone to run and grab the Aurors, if they won't come and help us, return here and try and grab any Order reinforcements who might come through. Do I have a volunteer?"

None of the others looked eager. Hermione tilted her head in confusion. "Are you sure Harry? The Aurors will likely arrest Sirius if they see him…" She pointed out. She knew just how much Harry would like to avoid such a thing.

He nodded and explained, "I have a bad feeling about this. I think that—" he shifted uneasily. "Well it might be a trap. And if that's the case, it's possible Sirius isn't even here in the first place. If he isn't and it is a trap, I want the Aurors here to help, and I want someone to stop Sirius from getting involved if he shows up with the others." He waved helplessly at their surroundings while he spoke.

The others looked at each other, Hermione was the first to begin slowly nodding. "If it is a trap, what can we do? Besides call the Aurors?"

He tilted his head at her. "We can try and figure out what they really want, and try and turn the trap back on them. Taking our time to ensure that reinforcements have a chance to catch up likely wouldn't hurt either…" He said.

Tactically speaking, this was a bad situation to be in. If one of his subordinates had suggested such a hair brained scheme in these conditions he would have had them digging latrines for a month, the muggle way. But this wasn't the military, and he knew what was coming ahead of time. "Do I have a volunteer?" he repeated pointedly.

He tried not to look meaningfully at Hermione, of those present she had been hurt the worst last time, she still caught his look and crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest scowling at him. "There is no chance you are leaving me behind Harry so forget about it." He sighed in resignation at that and nodded.

Finally Neville sighed. "I'll do it. I'd just slow you lot down anyways. I'm rubbish at magic." He noted sadly.

Harry wasn't about to let that pass. "No you're not, I have a theory on what's holding you back, but that can wait. This is an important job Nev' I'm not asking you to do this to get rid of you." he said sincerely.

Neville's face lightened somewhat at that and nodded soberly, "You lot get going then, I'll get the Aurors." He turned and strode away. Harry nodded to the others and led them to one of the lifts, drawing back the golden grate to allow the others to pile in. Harry hesitated before jabbing the number nine button. Even after all these years he remembered the way.

The grilles banged closed and the lift began to descend, rattling and clanging all the way. He remembered how disturbed he had been last time about how noisy the lifts were. He had been sure that every security person in the building would come running. Now, that didn't seem like such a bad thing.

He glanced across at Hermione, he needed to stop this. It was too painful watching her, seeing her, perfect and alive, just as she had been. As she should be. And even if this were real, if he was somehow living it all again…He was an adult now. She was sixteen. It felt wrong to be eyeing her so. Though judging by the way nobody had asked why he looked older, he appeared to be fifteen himself.

He gave a start when the lift clattered to a stop. "Department of Mysteries," the same cool voice said as the grilles slid open. Just as last time when they exited the lift, nothing was moving in the corridor beyond. Only the flicker and snap of the torches giving the corridor any life. The flames flickering a bit higher as air from the lift blew across them.

It was strange, being back here. That plain black door at the end of the hall had so fascinated him the last time around. He had dreamed of it for months and months, and had almost revelled in finally seeing it for real. He tried to stifle his disgust at how stupid he had been back then.

"Come on then." He murmured tiredly, trying to drag his mind back from…well he supposed it was still technically the past. Just maybe not the same past as those around him. He noted Luna stilled looked overawed by it all, but that was Luna, she could find the wonder in anything, even a blank corridor.

He paused just before the door. He'd tried to get the others to stay behind last time. And quite frankly he had no desire to put them in danger again this time, even knowing roughly what was coming. "Anyone want to stay and hold the entrance until reinforcements arrive?" he asked, knowing it was a vain hope even as he said it.

The glare from Ginny was answer enough. Neville wasn't here this time to voice his support, but Ron still was. "Let's get on with it," He said firmly. It was funny, he'd had so many more years to learn about Ron's little foibles, and even though he'd been gone…well forever, he could read him like an open book.

Ron very clearly didn't want to be left behind, but knowing Ron as he did now, he realized something he hadn't before. Ron didn't come along because they needed him, or even because he wanted to. He came along because he hated to be one upped. At least that was how he saw such things. He'd see being left behind as someone preventing him from his shot at glory. It was what had ultimately split him and Hermione. His constant rabble rousing and glory mongering. He'd throw himself into danger again and again, hunting such things, and on the few times he couldn't he would raise six kinds of hell about being left behind.

He loved Ron, like a brother, but that no longer blinded him to his faults. It was, when one came down to it, a form of jealousy, of envy. The inability to allow anyone else to be raised above him. It was why he had been so hard on Hermione in their school years, even though she was just trying to be her best, it was why he couldn't stand to be left behind, and it was why he had ultimately turned his back on them. He had reached his limit one day and had known he could no longer keep on, even though they could, and it had bred a resentment in him.

Harry would head into danger, and Hermione would inevitably follow, and yet Ron no longer could. He'd hated Harry more and more for taking his girlfriend into danger, but more so he'd hated seeing them, as he saw it, surpassing him with every passing mission.

They'd never had the chance to sort themselves out, or come to an understanding. He'd died before they had the opportunity.

Harry truly wished he could go it alone. Even though he knew such a battle would likely be suicidal even for him, even though the Death Eaters here today wished to take him alive…He walked forward regardless and the door opened of it's own volition allowing him and the others to cross it's threshold.

He remembered this room well. Circular in nature, black walls, black doors, a black ceiling, on a black marble floor, which if one looked at it appeared to be made of a dark mercurial liquid due to the flickering pale blue light cast by the branch like candle holders set onto the walls between the doors.

Last time they had encountered difficulties because this room shuffled the doors to confuse intruders when they closed the entrance behind them. "Hermione?" He asked, carefully holding the door open. It actually tugged slightly at his grasp, apparently wanting to seal itself behind them.

She looked back to him, a questioning look on her face. "Yes Harry?"

"Could you please mark the other doors? Just a number will do." He suggested, and upon her confused expression he explained a little. "I have a feeling this place will become a little difficult to navigate." he gestured to the room around them, he hoped it's uniform appearance would convey to her that the department might be a little labyrinthian.

She nodded cautiously as she took in the room about them, before pacing to one door and sketching a flaming number 1 on it, she sketched a 2 and a 3 on the others, before turning back to him expectantly. He allowed the door to close behind him.

As anticipated the room moved around them, accelerating until the doors became a blur, the flames a whirlwind of fire about them, before slamming to a halt with a thump.

Sure enough the numbers were still in place. And he smiled to himself idly. That should make things a little easier going forward….He gave a start when a voice spoke up. "How did you know to do that Harry?" Hermione asked quizzically.

He shrugged easily, sighing to himself. He'd missed her inquisitive nature. "I didn't," he lied smoothly, he hated being false with her, but he was still unsure what was going on right then and didn't want to further complicate matters when they were about to walk into a trap on purpose.

She raised an eyebrow at him, clearly she had her doubts, but for the moment she remained silent. Ron snorted irritably, "Where do we go then Harry?' he asked.

He shrugged, last time he had explained his dreams, and how it would allow him to figure out the path, this time he was in no hurry. "I'll know it when I see it. For now lets keep going and see where it leads us." He stepped forward an pushed the first door open, his wand at the ready, it was strange having this little piece of wood in his hands again. He'd lost it years ago, and had never found it again…Add to that the fact that most of his magic had long since transitioned into wandless casting and it was almost uncomfortable holding it again.

The room before him was one he remembered well enough. A large rectangular room, dark just as with the rest of the Department of Mysteries, The blackness only given form by the shining chandelier like lights above them and the desks that were scattered about the room. A single large tank, an ornate silvery metal frame holding in glass panes separating them from the greenish liquid within, not to mention the tank's occupants.

Small greyish, wrinkled masses drifting about the tank like strange jellyfish with their ephemeral strands drifting idly behind them. Harry heard Luna excitedly start in about Aquivarius maggots, only to stop in disappointment when it was pointed out they were brains.

"Why would they have brains in here?" Ron asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"The Department of Mysteries studies a lot of things if I remember right…" He quirked an eyebrow at Luna who was nevertheless watching the brains drift about with interest. "Would one of those things happen to be thoughts I wonder?"

Luna nodded intrigued. "It could very well be something like that, the mind is one of the greatest mysteries of all." She noted almost cheerfully.

"Shouldn't we keep moving Harry?" Ron asked impatiently.

Harry chuckled. "So eager Ron? Remember what I said earlier about being careful?" He pointed out. Ron looked down, chagrined. "You aren't wrong though, if Sirius is here, he'd probably appreciate it if we didn't dawdle _too much_ "

He led the way to another door and pulled it open, and froze. Of all the rooms in the Department of Mysteries, at least of all those he'd seen himself, he hated this one the most. It was large, massive actually, with a stone floor which sloped down in a depression to the chambers centre. The walls were lined with balconies, and in the centre of the chamber stood the arch with an eddying curtain of black mist within it. This was the Death Chamber, this was where he had lost the closest thing to a father he could ever remember having.

The arch was the veil of death. The balconies were where, in ages passed, the people of Wizarding Britain would gather to watch criminals as they were condemned to die by passing though that veil. He hated it with every fibre of his being.

Nevertheless he and the others were drawn towards the veil, though they all stopped short of it by a good few meters and sure enough he heard them, the voices. The whispers of those who had passed on.

At least it had been whispers, and judging by the way the others were behaving, for them it was as still so. For him it, was a dull roar, and he knew then why that was. Unlike the others he had the better part of a decade of war and slaughter to his name, the dead cried out to him from the beyond, some pleading for vengeance, others for mercy. He raised his hand to his forehead and massaged away the headache that formed.

"Are you alright Harry?" Hermione asked.

He nodded. "Do you hear the voices too?" he asked curious.

She shook her head, but stopped when she noted Luna was nodding. "You hear them Luna?" She asked the slightly blonde.

"Yes. I could swear I recognize them but…"

Harry shuddered, "I think we need to leave." He truly did not wish to be where those voices sounded longer than he had to be. It felt like they were accusing him, berating him for his failures. He led the way to the first door he could find, no longer caring where it might lead, he simply had to get out of there.

But the door was locked, and he paused. He badly wished to stalk off in search of another door, but something about this one…In all his years of study, in all the books he'd read which concerned this department, only one door was ever mentioned as being locked. Sealed, both in fear and in reverence for what was contained within. The Love chamber of the Department of Mysteries, was said to contain wonders beyond imagining… Frankly he doubted most of the rumours and stories about that room, but he suspected it would be something beyond anything he'd ever experienced.

He grasped the door knob, just feeling it and he was surprised to find it warm to the touch, and he froze, accompanying the sensation of a gentle warmth, was a rising feeling of contentment and peace. The kind he had not felt in years, not since the last time he had held Hermione in his arms. Alive and whole…He leaned his head slightly against the door, if but for a moment, before with great reluctance releasing the handle. He knew that what lay beyond was not something he should tamper with, that it was not something he was personally meant to experience right then.

He shifted back, and looked apologetically to the others and quirked a small smile. "It's locked, we'll try one of the other ones."

Ron protested. "This has got to be it though right? I mean, why else would it be locked?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe because it's dangerous Ronald?" Hermione said sighing in exasperation. "Or maybe because, they really really don't want just anybody mucking about with whatever's in there?"

He held up his hands placatingly. "Alright, alright steady on, so maybe it's not the room we're looking for." he agreed irritably. "It's not like you know though, you've never been here before either."

Hermione growled in equal irritation before stalking off in search of another door. "Mental that one, I tell you."

Harry just rolled his eyes at that, that answer was so typically Ron Weasley it was difficult to describe, but he himself was surprised when Luna spoke up. "You know Ronald, it is curious that you always seem to believe Hermione to be the one acting crazy, but she is after all a genius. Who is more likely to be incorrect, her or you?" She asked gently.

Ron's face flared red briefly, before he looked down at his feet muttering darkly. Harry just shook his head and started off in the direction Hermione had taken off in. He paused only briefly to pat Luna gratefully on the shoulder offering a small smile before continuing on.

He made his way to the door where Hermione was waiting. Luna skipping along beside him. "I wonder what will be in this one?" She asked.

"Something Blibbering no doubt," Hermione grumbled under her breath. Harry didn't need to see the brief flash of hurt to know Luna had heard that.

"Ease off Hermione, she just stood up to Ron for you." Harry chastised, as much as it pained him to do so, this being Hermione, but he knew that Luna didn't deserve that, even from her.

She looked up in surprise and saw Ron stumping up behind them looking surly. She then looked to Harry considering before nodding shortly. "Sorry Luna." She said sincerely, her eyes softening as she looked to the other girl. "And thanks."

Harry pushed the door open, and saw they had reached their destination, he had hoped they would wander a bit more first, but… "This is it," Harry announced cutting off any potential discussion. He knew it was, the faintly glimmering room was unmistakable.

Row upon row, rack upon rack, shelves of prophecies stretched into the distance. He idly wondered just how many prophecies here were still unfulfilled, how many were just nonsense lost to time? He paused here considering. He gestured the others closer. " _Muffliato_ " He incanted quietly, he ignored the surprised look from Hermione at his use of a spell she didn't know. "If there's an ambush waiting on us, it's in here. Be ready, if I say run, run. If I say get down do it, okay?"

He got more than a few raised eyebrows at that, these versions of his friends were not yet used to him leading like this, but nevertheless he was met with eventual nods. "I'll lower the privacy spell now, watch what you say." he finished and flicked his wand cancelling the incantation.

"Er—So where now Harry?" Ron asked, clearly wrong footed by his change in demeanour. Harry looked around considering.

"I'll know it when I see it, stick together."

The others spread out just a touch as he began along the central row, he had to admit, if it weren't for the fact this place was crawling with Death Eaters…The hall of Prophecy would be almost pretty, so many little globes of swirling blue light on little golden feet. It was like wandering in the void between stars.

He led them on cautiously through it all. "Wands ready?" He asked as they neared the aisle he knew would be their destination, he paused long enough to take in their answers and glance around.

It was a curious talent Harry had developed over the years, one he shared with many a copper who had to work the night shift in a bad neighbourhood. When ones foes so often hid in the shadows, one became accustomed to the methods of spotting people in the dark. The trick to it lay in staring into the black so long that you became intimately familiar with the various, shades and textures of darkness, so that you knew every tone of the colour called black.

Harry sincerely doubted the others noticed, but there he picked out no less than five patches of shadow which were deeper than the rest, each of them keeping pace with them at a distance. He even spotted a brief flash of silver, doubtless the mask of one of the enemy, and had to stamp down hard on the urge to stare after it. "Here we are, row ninety seven…"

He paced into the aisle and considered the empty space, no Sirius Black, just as predicted, just as last time. "No Sirius…I have a bad feeling about this." Ron muttered.

Harry chuckled, drawing surprised looks. "So it would seem, now either they've moved him or…" He noticed Hermione staring at a little glass orb off to the side, fate it seemed knew what it wanted. He sighed and paced forward. He gazed at the ball alongside her.

The prophecy, he knew exactly what it said, he had it memorized by heart. He'd carried it out and lived every moment of it. He sighed in resignation "Or _this_ is why we're really here."

* * *

"Very good, Potter. Figure that out all by yourself did you?" A drawling voice inquired from behind him.

The Death Eaters were emerging from the shadows now, to the others it likely appeared as if they had emerged from thin air. They blocked the passage left and right of them, preventing escape; Harry could see the glint of eyes through the holes in their masks, their wands were ignited and raised to point at the clustered students. Harry heard a small gasp from Ginny.

"Now then, why don't you pick up that little orb and hand it to me, before I have to start killing anyone?" Lucius drawled easily stepping forward into the light, his hand extended outwards and palm up.

In the past Harry had demanded to know where Sirius had been. But Harry knew he wasn't there this time around. Still, he needed to buy time. "Sirius was never here in the first place was he?"

The Death Eaters chuckled amongst themselves; a familiar grating female voice emanated from the middle of the group on the left. "The Dark Lord always knows!" Cackled Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Always," Malfoy repeated in an undertone. "Give me the prophecy, Potter."

Harry had come to know his foes well over the years. Bellatrix was a blunt instrument, the Dark Lord's hammer. If there was need of carnage and mayhem, he threw Bellatrix at the problem. Lucius however was a different beast. Cunning, and resourceful, but also, of those present here today, easily the least devoted of the Dark Lord's elite.

Oh Lucius served willingly, and had more than his share of crimes to his name, but Harry had come to recognize a sort of…resentment, or bitterness in Lucius, the man chafed being beholden to Voldemort. This resentment had only worsened when his sole heir Draco had been slain. Lucius had been expected as a matter of course to sacrifice everything in service of the Dark Lord. His home, his wealth…his family.

Perhaps Voldemort knew just what Lucius felt, and that was why he kept him so tightly bound to his service? Lucius was in this because he believed in Pure Blood nobility and superiority. Oh, the other's believed in these tenants as well to varying degrees. But most of them were in it for the action as it were, the violence. The Dark Lord, was in it only for himself, all other concerns were secondary.

Harry squinted his eyes a bit, it was hard to see anything through the dazzling light of the enemy's wands. He needed more time, but he could not allow things to play out as they had before. "So…Tom's got you running errands for him now, has he?" He asked as blandly as he could manage. "He couldn't come here himself after all, people might see that he's up and about again right? So he sends his errand boy with a couple of minders to do what he is afraid to do himself."

Lucius' eye twitched ever so slightly, "Come now Potter, you know better than that. Name calling and petty jabs will not save you. Give me the prophecy or things will get violent."

"Well at least you warn people before you curse them, not like your son." Harry noted idly. "But you are still most definitely a Malfoy, you prefer fights when you think things are in your favour. Draco is less subtle about it though. He ponces about declaring how wonderful he is and how his father can do anything, and then when you walk away, just to get away from his prattling, he throws a tantrum and starts firing curses. I think I prefer your style, but that's not really saying much."

The other Death Eaters looked at each other in confusion, this wasn't going the way they had expected. What kind of nutter sits there and insults the person who has a wand to their head after all? Harry could see that his friends were not much better off. Ron shifted uneasily. "Not yet Ron, we'll fight when we're ready,"

Bellatrix offered a mad cackle at this. "You hear this one, leading them about like he thinks he and his little band of misfits and mudbloods can fight us!"

"Not very civil is she?" Harry said dryly. "I mean, you might be thinking it, but you at least manage to keep from saying whatever comes to mind. Do you think you could teach dear Draco that? He's always running at the mouth, calling people mudbloods and blood traitors. You never have to wonder what he's thinking…I wonder how he got into Slytherin?"

Lucius' eyes glinted in irritation. "Potter I will ask one last time, give me the Prophecy."

"Yes, you've said that several times…" Harry sighed in mock exasperation. "You want the Prophecy, so that's what this is is it?" He asked curiously looking at the sphere. He reached out and grabbed it, turning it over in his hands. "Huh, not very impressive is it? What's it about?"

Again confusion swept through the Death Eaters ranks. "Surely you jest." Lucius said sounding honestly shocked.

Harry chuckled. "No, I'm not joking. I didn't even know this was here. Thought you had Sirius didn't I?"

"This is just too good…" Lucius chuckled. "It appears I did not give the Dark Lord enough credit. Getting you to come here as he did." His voice filled with malicious delight.

Harry shrugged unconcerned, "He always was one for unnecessarily convoluted plans, Vol—"

"DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME!" Shrieked Bellatrix, her wand coming up. "HOW DARE YOU BESMIRCH HIS NAME WITH YOUR FILTHY LIPS HALF-BLOOD!"

Harry watched in amusement as Malfoy hurried to rein in the mad woman. Harry cocked his head at her as he had last time. "Well that's a bit of irony isn't it. Half-Blood. Ha! He never mentioned that he himself is a Half-Blood did he?"

It took a full minute, some careful footwork to dodge the odd spell from the now crazed woman and a lot of work on Malfoy's part to get Bellatrix to stop trying to kill them. "He dares—He stands there like—how dare he say—Filthy Half-Blood!" Bellatrix was ranting incoherently now. It always had been easy to set her off.

"Maybe Tom should keep his attack dog on a leash?" Harry suggested, drawing glares. "I mean, really, what is he thinking sending her for something delicate like this. I mean, clearly he wants this, and possibly me, intact, and yet here she is throwing magic around like that? Either she doesn't actually _care_ what he wants or Pureblood breeding and nobility isn't what it's cracked up to be."

Lucius stopped Bellatrix before she could get going again. "Bellatrix serves her purpose Potter, pray you never find yourself at her mercy when she's given free rein."

"I'm sure, after all every evil despot needs a good killing machine. But don't you think it's odd? I mean, here's…the Dark Lord, supposedly championing Pureblood ideals, and yet near as I can tell he only has one or two who actually live up to those ideals. I mean, Bellatrix here is practically frothing at the mouth, the Lestrange boys strike me as thugs…sorry, I'm assuming you to brutes are the Lestranges. Can't really tell with those masks on…The only one here who even bothers talking is you Malfoy. Doesn't say much for the Pureblood cause honestly."

Lucius' eyes narrowed. "I know what you are doing, Potter. You're buying time. It won't work. Give me the Prophecy or I will let the other's start killing your friends."

"You act as if the Prophecy matters…As though it won't just be a muddled pile of half-truths and insinuations. Did you ever take divination, let me tell you, near as I can tell, prophecy is the art of telling you what _might_ happen in a way that makes people think you're special. Maybe the Prophecy says I'll kill him, maybe it say he'll kill me? What does it matter?"

"It is not your place to question the Dark Lord's motives Potter, if you will not give me the Prophecy then you leave me little choice…" Lucius sighed.

Harry gave his friends a significant look. "Remember what I said?"

It took them a moment, but they nodded. They started raising their wands, ready to fight. "You sure we can't settle this like civilized people Malfoy? Can't just let a group of school children be on their way?" His only answer was a smirk, the man jerked a nod to the others who spread out around them.

"Remember, non-lethals only, we need that prophecy—"

Harry didn't give them any more time to prepare. " _Reducto!_ "

His friends cried out as one, spells streaking out towards the Death Eaters. Harry's opening spell had been aimed elsewhere though. The overpowered curse had struck the nearest racks support and had effectively reduced it, and most of the rack itself, to dust and ash. The whole thing careened wildly and several Prophecies crashed to the floor about them, showering them with glass and smoke.

"Run!" Harry yelled and they turned, bowling over the nearest Death Eater in their haste. Ginny apparently had the right idea because she had imitated him, and was bringing down the various aisles around them. Chaos was spreading rapidly through the chamber. He fired a whirlwind curse behind him and kept running. He heard someone curse, followed by a shriek and a clatter.

They sprinted towards the exit. Not as easy as it sounded, the Death Eaters were rapidly extricating themselves from the chaos they'd left in their wake and were giving chase, a couple of the more adept among them using short range combat apparition to hop ahead of the others to shadow their movements.

They soon learned this was a mistake. The entire…meeting, Harry had been itching to stand up and just fight it out with the enemy. His allies' inexperience, and the number and proximity of the Death Eaters had stopped him from doing so. Now that the Death Eaters were spread out however.

He threw his arm out his wand extended and caught one of the Death Eaters, Crabbe he thought from his brief view of the mask, in the face with an immolation curse. The man hit the ground with a bloodcurdling scream as he ignited.

Harry and the others hit the door and he spun briefly to fire a brace of curses behind them before dashing with the others into the next room. He idly wondered what was taking the Aurors so long…

* * *

John Dawlish, was quite possibly the most unpleasant, arrogant and pedantic idiot to ever have afflicted the Auror Corps. Which was saying something considering some of the people who the Corps had to make do with in recent memory.

Unfortunately for Neville Longbottom he was also the one working with the front desk tonight to filter through whoever called in.

The man in question was currently at his condescending best. "Let me see if I get this right?" He said leaning back in his chair and gesturing grandly. "You expect me to believe that Death Eaters, a group of people who have not been seriously active in more than a decade have broken into the most secure department in the ministry, and are holding one of their own members hostage?" He asked, his lips curled in an amused smirk.

Neville Longbottom was a quiet retiring sort for the most part, but even he was having trouble keeping his temper right then. "I told you, Sirius Black isn't on their side, Harry Potter…"

"Ah yes, the famous Boy-Who-Lived, who's got the Minister's pants in knot lately. You also expect me to believe he broke out of Hogwarts, and came all the way to London in order to fight these imaginary…sorry, these Death Eaters?"

Neville just glared at him. John Dawlish rolled his eyes. "I'll tell you what, why don't you just…" He cut off as a door opened behind the boy, and he sat up straighter.

"Ah, Director, I wasn't expecting you in tonight…" He said, obviously surprised.

Amelia Bones, kicked the door closed behind her as she balanced folders in the crook of her arm and a cup of coffee in the other hand. "I didn't intend to be, but I've got plenty of paperwork to be getting on with…" She looked up as she dropped one of the folders on a desk, and blinked in surprise. "Mr Longbottom, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in school?"

Neville crossed his arms over his chest. "I've been trying to tell you people, but this man isn't listening to me."

Dawlish leaned forward, shaking his finger in the boys face. "Now you listen to me…"

"John. Enough, Neville, what are you doing here?" Amelia asked shooting the Auror a warning look.

Neville sighed. "Harry Potter has come to believe that Sirius Black is being held by Death Eaters here at the Ministry in the Department of Mysteries. We— Harry Potter, myself and a few others broke out of Hogwarts tonight to come here and try to stop them. He headed to the Department of Mysteries and sent me here to get help."

Amelia blinked in confusion for a moment. "You broke out of school, to come and break into the Department of Mysteries to save Sirius Black? Why?"

"Because he's Harry's godfather or some such okay? I don't know all the details, just that it's important to Harry and he thinks there's Death Eaters here." Neville explained in exasperation.

Amelia turned her attention to Dawlish. "And you didn't investigate, why?"

He sputtered. "Ma'am, this is clearly nonsense, there's no point in wasting time…"

She held up a hand to stop him. "Whether or not Harry Potter is in the Ministry's good graces, and whether or not there really are Death Eaters here, you have just received intelligence that at the very least a group of citizens is attempting to break into one of the most secure and classified sectors of the Ministry." She said sternly. "The fact that the threat possibly involves a terrorist organization alone should have you acting."

She turned her attention back to Neville. "Very well, we'll dispatch a squad immediately, anything else?"

Neville nodded, relieved as Dawlish sulked. "Harry wanted me to wait by the lifts down to the department. He thought it might be a trap, so he wanted someone to go get the Aurors then go and head off the others when they arrived."

"What others?" Amelia asked.

"Dunno, just know that Harry speculated Sirius might come with them and to tell him to go back and let the others handle it."

"Very well, let's check the ward sensors and see where your friends have…"

She stopped as she turned to consider the wall in front of her. The Auror office had a large map of the Ministry in it's entirety, small lights speckling it's surface over various locations. Green meant a 'situation normal' reading. Yellow a possible intruder, orange a confirmed magical incident, not uncommon in the department of Mysteries, and Red meant active spell fire.

The entire Department of Mysteries south end was alight with orange and red lights. She cringed as the location she knew to be the time room lit up purple. It looked like John Dawlish was in for a demotion.

* * *

Despite his best efforts, Harry once again found himself and his friends in a fight for their lives within the Death Chamber of the Ministry of Magic. He and the others were, in spite of his hard fought battle to the contrary, being corralled by the more numerous and skilled Death Eaters. Harry knew that a pitched battle here was a losing proposition for himself and his companions. They needed out of the department, and fast! Malfoy and the others were rapidly closing in around them when— there, high above on the balcony— two more doors burst open and several figures sprinted into the room.

The last time around, it had been Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks and Kingsley, who had come to their rescue though Dumbledore has shown up soon after. To Harry's chagrin he noted that Sirius was still present, however so were many others he had not expected. Amelia Bones was at the forefront of the group entering on the left, several Aurors behind her.

Malfoy who was closest cursed, turning and going to raise his wand. A mistake considering Harry's proximity, and found himself catapulted through he air by a high powered repulsing hex. Harry didn't get the chance to follow that up with anything more however as soon, the room devolved into chaos, spells rocketing down from above towards the Death Eaters.

Through the darting bodies, and flashing light of spellfire, Harry saw her. Bellatrix. A long hated personal nemesis. And yet he could not give chase as she and a couple of her compatriots were forced back towards the door. Despite the arrival of the Aurors, this was still very much a dangerous place for his friends. He could not leave them alone in this. It had been a miracle none of them had been killed last time.

Not that they'd escaped injury this time either. Luna had a cut on her cheek, Ginny a split lip. Ron had nearly been mauled by that brain…again. And Hermione's arm may have been broken or dislocated in someway judging by the way she was holding it close in, up against her body.

But he had to didn't he? If he was to catch Bellatrix and hold her until Voldemort arrived or they'd be stuck with Fudge and his pack of idiots for the foreseeable future. A solution presented itself and he cursed to himself bitterly, hoping it would work as he threw himself back behind his friends and brought his hands up, transfiguring a shell of thick stone from the floor up into a dome over them. Before turning to pursue. It wasn't guaranteed to save them, but it'd give them a fighting chance.

He hated leaving them like this. But much of the death and destruction had been caused by Fudge's efforts to suppress the truth instead of preparing for war while their enemy was weak. If he was not removed now. That state of affairs would continue and Voldemort would have yet more time to prepare unchallenged.

So he raced on after Bellatrix as she fled through a doorway. His efforts slightly stymied when one of the Death Eaters attempting to follow her was wounded by a curse from above and he was forced to duel the now crippled man in his way.

It was a short fight, but it nevertheless gave his foe time to widen the distance.

But Harry had advantages she didn't know about this time, and he began to combat apparate himself in leaps along through the Department, its wards in tatters from the battle doing nothing to stop him. He still failed to catch her before she reached the lift, but he wasn't so far behind her as he had been either.

He had to admit he was just a little bit impatient, despite the changes in events. Despite Sirius and the others still being alive and relatively well when last he'd seen them. He forced the grille on the gate over the lift fully open with a bang, the gate actually warping from the force of the spell he used to do it.

Bellatrix was not so far away as she'd been last time, that time she'd been almost to the telephone lift at the far end of the hall. She still looked behind her at the clatter of his footsteps and fired off a spell over her shoulder. He had to give Bellatrix this, she always had been a deft duelist.

Nevertheless he batted the curse away almost negligently where it buried itself in the floor with a whining howl.

Apparently Bellatrix had decided to stand and fight, however, as she whirled around just before she reached the Fountain of Magical Brethren. Harry stalked forward, closing the distance between them silently as an old familiar hatred bubbled up inside him.

She must have seen something in his eyes then, because while she opened her mouth to start spouting off as she was want to do in a fight, she clamped it shut soon after and settled into a duelling stance.

Her first spell came in a shoulder height, a crucio if he were to guess judging by the spells virulent red hue. He slapped it aside and kept closing, firing off a brace of reductors at her, which she deflected or absorbed with various shields.

"Aaaaaah — good!" She cheered, "Little baby Potter, knows how to play! Dumbledore has been teaching you then after all?" the madwoman mocked in her sickly sweet baby voice.

"No, he hasn't," Harry admitted, unleashing a whirlwind at her which she was forced to dance away from hurriedly. "Not a damn thing actually. But one does not need to learn at the _Great Albus Dumbledore's_ knee to learn a few things." He murmured, the echoing chamber carrying his words to her clearly despite his low tone.

"Reeeaaally," She chuckled firing another curse at him which he sidestepped deftly. "Naughty, naughty little Harry. Does the _Old Man_ know you've been learning from someone other than his little lapdogs?"

He shrugged, "Who knows, who cares." He said off handedly, "You know, you are rather easily distracted Bellatrix." Harry mocked as they wove through another series of attacks and counters. "You've forgotten why you were even here in the first place, a certain something you were supposed to get maybe?" He pulled the orb from his pocket and wobbled it at her.

Her face hardened, "I have not forgotten Potter." She snapped loosing a stream of hexes and curses at him. "I will collect that prophecy off your body when I'm done with you!"

Harry smirked. "Really, will you now? I was under the impression your _oh so loving_ master desired the pleasure of killing me for himself. As for the prophecy…"

Bellatrix screamed in rage and horror as the prophecy disintegrated in his hand and the smokey blue apparition blew away on the breeze he conjured, it's voice and tale lost forever.

He prepared himself now, he had a plan for getting through to her, enraging her had been just the start of it. A way to take her down. But he had to wait for another…

They danced through another rally of spells, as she lashed out at him in blind fury and then — "Crucio!" Bellatrix screamed.

And this time, instead of dodging Harry stepped into the curse, and cringed as he felt his nerves light up. But he'd had a decade of war to get used to this pain. It was how he had lasted as long as he had against her. Where the Death Eaters had wallowed in their iniquity, revelling after every battle. Harry had not, especially after the loss of Hermione. He had practiced, he had trained, and he had prepared. In the years he'd fought he'd been afflicted by the cruciatus curse more times than he cared to remember.

In that older body, who's memories he now housed, his mind had acclimated to the pain, his nerves had become inured somewhat to the torment. This one's had not.

However while this body suffered far worse than that previous one had, he still knew how to persevere, and his wand arm came up. Bellatrix had only a few moments, her eyes widening to try to step back and break the curse to defend herself, but it was too late.

The curse Harry loosed at her blew a hole clean through the unprepared woman's chest and out her back. A wet explosion of blood spattering the ground behind her and she staggered back, wand clattering to the floor, and hands rising to the hole in her chest disbelievingly.

Her face came up to stare blindly at him, "M-master?" She croaked brokenly, her shattered lungs struggling to provide air for the words.

"He's too late to save you Bellatrix, though I doubt he would. He has other things on his mind." Harry murmured, watching as the woman crumpled slowly to the floor. "Isn't that right Tom?" He asked.

There was a moment's hesitation then, "Indeed it isss Potter, though you sshall pay for the loss of one of my most faithful." Tom Marvel Riddle promised behind him.

* * *

Tall and thin, cloaked in a black-hooded robe, his awful serpentine visage white and gaunt. His scarlet, slit-pupilled eyes staring hatefully at him as he turned … Lord Voldemort, Dark Lord of the British Isles, had finally decided to make his appearance, right in the middle of the Ministry's Atrium. His wand was already pointing at Harry, who paced idly, watching him.

"Sssooo, you destroyed my prophecy?" hissed Voldemort softly, staring at Harry with those unfathomable red eyes. "I saw it was true the moment I looked in poor Bella's dying eyes … Once again you thwart me Harry Potter." He said, his ire causing the Ss in his speech to slip into sibilant hissing.

"It would seem so Tom." Harry agreed wearily.

"I grow tired of you Potter, you have defied me too often, for far too long. Avada Kedavra!" He snarled and a green spell rocketed towards him. But Harry stood smiling grimly, not only unafraid of a death which would free him from the Horcrux which had been restored to his body, but also hearing what Voldemort had not. The subtle grinding of metal on marble as the statue began to shift behind him.

A great golden hand reaching forward pulling Harry behind the statue's golden bulk. Voldemort reared back in shock as his spell glanced harmlessly off the golden wizard. "What — ?" Voldemort spat whirling around. And then he breathed, almost disbelieving. " _Dumbledore._ "

Harry looked behind him, his heart still pounding from all the excitement, Dumbledore was standing in front go the golden gate.

What followed was almost exactly what had transpired the first time Harry had experienced this. Voldemort fired a killing curse at Dumbledore who vanished as the statues all came to life and began to harass his opponent. This time Harry reached up to pat the wizard statue fondly on the arm. "Do not worry friend, I can handle myself." He promised softly, allowing his magic to overwrite the enchantment Dumbledore had set on it to protect him and Harry stepped forward.

"It was quite foolish to come here tonight, Tom," Said Dumbledore calmly. "The Aurors are on their way —"

"By which time I shall be gone, and you will be —!" What Dumbledore would be was lost as Voldemort nearly lost his head to a curse from Harry which came as he stepped into the fight.

Tom snarled as he dove out of the way just in time. Dumbledore appeared startled to see Harry standing unprotected striding toward his enemy, wand aloft. "Harry, please, step back…" He instructed urgently. "Leave this to me."

"No," Said Harry simply. " _Profligo_!" Harry snapped and a particularly nasty explosive curse lashed out at Tom. " _Fulmenis_ — _digatorus terrae_!" he growled, under his breath. Strictly speaking it was bad form to use verbalized spells in a fight. But there were advantages to using a spell verbally now and then. Power, surety of purpose when manipulating magic, and a way to vent some of your energy in a constructive fashion.

Voldemort blocked his first curse with that silver shield spell he was so fond of, though it rang like a gong at the impact. The second, a lightning spell, forced him to disparate and reappear nearer the fountain. The finger like protrusions of the earth nearly snared his feet but he was a whiley foe, just as he always had been. " _Tempestasum Pulsos_!" Harry growled low in his throat, and small bolts of lightning erupted from his wand by the score.

Voldemort had been caught somewhat flat footed by finding Harry to be another competent foe. One he should have been able to ignore out of hand. There was the sound of running feet growing louder however and Tom snarled. "So, you've give the boy some teeth have you Dumbledore?"

"It matters not, the next time we meet he shall die." He snapped before vanishing to reappear near the Floos.

Harry kept up the assault, but it was for naught and the enemy vanished in a burst of green fire. Thankfully, his efforts had not been a total loss, as Harry whirled, cursing in frustration he saw that the hall was rapidly filling with Aurors and workers who had come from other areas of the Ministry. He saw Fudge once again stumbling closer in his night clothes.

Harry glanced briefly at Dumbledore who was staring at him, appearing shocked. "Dumbledore, D-Dumbledore?" Fudge called weakly as he approached. "Was that — was that who I thought it was?" He asked sounding piteous.

Harry had no patience for the bumbling fool who had ultimately cost so many lives the last time around. He had other more pressing concerns, "Headmaster," He barked not looking the man in the eye. "I'll be checking on the others if you need me, I assume they've all been sent to Saint Mungo's?"

Something about him actually speaking aloud broke the headmaster's confused stupor. "Uh—Hogwarts actually Harry, none were seriously injured…"

He nodded, he shouldn't have been surprised. Dumbledore always had preferred to keep things in house when he could. Still, he was relieved Dumbledore didn't speak of any fatalities.

"Very well, I'll see you there soon." He turned and stalked off towards another one of the Floos vanishing in the fire before anyone could protest.

* * *

 **Spells:**

Profligo = Shattering Explosive Curse

Fulmenis = Lightning Strike

Digatorus Terrae = Fingers of Earth

Tempestasum Pulsos = A storm of lightning bolts/pulses

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Well there you go, thats the end of that plot bunny, for now... Please review and comment!


	4. Patriot Bunny

**Author's Note:** Single chapter plot bunny this time. See if you can guess the inspiration for this story idea...

* * *

Harry sighed at the rapid staccato like rapping at the door to his bedroom, "Get up boy! We need to speak." His Aunt called irritably through the door, before knocking again.

"I heard you the first time Aunt Petunia, give me a second." He griped, muttering under his breath about how the locks were on her side of the door anyways it wasn't like he preventing her from entering, before closing his book and getting up to stump to the door.

He pulled it open and glared sullenly at his mother's sister, who stared at him somewhat taken aback by his demeanour. "Alright, I'm here, what did you want to discuss?"

She seemed to come back to herself and glowered. "You watch your tone boy?"

"Or what? You'll ask Vernon to break out the the belt again?" He snapped, before stilling as an idea occurred to him. "Since you people haven't seemed to figure out just how big a mistake that would be all on its own I'll show you something."

His aunt started sputtering irately, he stalked across his room and picked up one of his school books and started flipping through it. Before returning to his aunt. "That better not have been a threat boy." She snapped.

He rolled his eyes, the Dursleys really were thick like a brick sandwich, each and every one of them. "Again, or else what? I may not be able to do magic right now but Dumbledore is, and children do not stay children forever. One day I will be an adult and free to do what I wish." At her worried expression he felt a small pang of victory, "But that is neither here nor there. This however is something you risked every time you tried to stamp the magic out of me as a child."

He shoved the book at her and pointed to a section. She tentatively took the book and started reading. Slowly as she read on through Harry's copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, her eyes widened. He'd just shown her the section on Obscurials. "Do you understand now? Every time you tried to force me to deny my nature, every time you punished me for something which wasn't my fault, every time your husband made me wish for death, you risked creating this sort of monster." Harry spat. "Now that you know that, how about we dispense with the pointless brow beating and such. Tell me why you wanted to talk to me."

She handed the book back, her hands shaking as she licked her lips her mouth suddenly dry. "We're going out, all of us. You too, we need you to help carry the bags while we shop for some new clothes in London."

Harry sighed, this happened every once in a while. He would say he hated it, but he actually enjoyed getting out of the house occasionally. "Fine, let me put on something else and I'll be right down. Maybe you can use that time to let Vernon know what you just read eh?"

For a moment she looked like she was about to protest being given instructions, but seemed to think better of it, jerking her chin down in a sharp nod before hurrying off.

That might have been a bit more forceful than necessary but he was growing very tired of being threatened by the Dursleys, he remembered how it had felt finding out about the origin of Obscurus. How horrified he'd been to learn that he'd come within a hairsbreadth of the conditions necessary to create such a monstrous beast. And it was all the fault of his relatives.

He sighed once again shaking his head before pulling on clothing more appropriate for going out, hesitating briefly before grabbing his wand. Not so much because he anticipated needing it, as that he felt naked without it. He slipped it into his pocket and pulled the edge of his shirt down over it before heading out the door. As he stepped outside he and the Dursleys didn't notice the sound of someone disapparating.

* * *

Harry's eyebrows climbed skeptically. He and his Aunt were standing under an awning outside a store near Hyde Park in London. It was pissing rain and his Aunt was now telling him that she and Vernon had changed their minds about needing him and so wanted him to 'Take a walk.'

His Aunt actually had the grace to appear embarrassed at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Vernon does not think it would…reflect well on our family for you to be seen with us in the stores we need to go to." She admitted, nodding slightly to him as he stood in his too large cast offs. "We'll uh…meet you back here in an hour," She decided.

Harry nodded and checked his watch, he wasn't fond of the rain but it'd be better than trailing after the Dursleys. Unfortunately Vernon couldn't resist the urge to add his two pence worth. "And you better be on time boy, or you'll have to find your own way home!"

The man then seemed to remember the conversation he'd had with his wife earlier and paled as Harry raised a brow at him. "Er—right, quite. Enjoy your walk then?" He offered weakly.

Harry watched them disappear inside the store before nodding to a woman who was idling nearby when she shot him a sympathetic look, apparently she'd overheard the entire ridiculous affair herself and gotten a good read on just what the Dursleys were like.

He then started walking despite the rain he soon found himself calming somewhat, his anger at the Dursleys fading away.

This part of London was nice at least, there were many parks in the area besides Hyde, and the buildings and streets were well cared for. He wished he could have simply focused on enjoying his little bit of freedom, but it was not so simple as that.

First of course to drift into his mind, were his memories of the previous year at Hogwarts. _Safest Place In Britain my eye._ Harry reflected darkly. Every year it was something, trolls, murderous teachers possessed by spirits, Basilisks and frauds, Dementors and traitors…

The last year had been the worst though. He'd been entered against his will into a Tournament which made Gladiatorial combat look tame. The entire school save one had turned against him, calling him a liar and a cheat. Then he had faced a reborn Dark Lord. Hermione had been the only one to stand steadfastly by his side, and over time he'd began to feel an attraction for his best friend. Fool that he'd been he'd failed to ask her to the Yule ball when he had the chance.

Still, he reflected bitterly, he'd managed to convince himself that all was not lost when she'd given him a kiss on the cheek on the train platform at the end of the year. Had even made him promise her he'd write.

 _Oh the irony_ , he'd dared to believe she might actually be starting to care for him in a less than platonic fashion after that, but then nothing. He'd sent letters, asked questions after the progress of the war effort, in the end pleading for any information at all. All he'd received in return were vague and very impersonal letters which failed to respond to anything he was actually saying or asking.

None of the others he'd mailed had been any better, but her turning away from him had hurt the worst by far.

He was stirred from these morose reflections as he prepared to cross a busy intersection. He was just about to step off the curb when a police car leading a small procession parallel to him slammed to a halt and the air was jarred with a sudden explosion.

Harry instinctively threw himself on the ground as the world shook around him. Almost immediately following the explosion people started screaming and Harry raised his head to look for the source of the detonation.

Three cars were stopped in the middle of the intersection. The first was a smouldering wreck, Harry could see it had been a police car not long before. He shook his head trying to clear the daze he was, and his head came up again just in time to see a man cloaked all in black step out of an alley and start striding towards the wreckage a wand in his hands. "Confingo!" He shouted and a bolt of fiery energy rippled off his wand and into the side of the second vehicle, which shuddered and rocked under the impact.

Soon enough Harry spotted a more cloaked figures detaching from the shadows and attacking the ailing vehicles.

Harry fought a surge of frustration and rage as he saw two police officers dive out of the rear car before it went up in flames. One even managed to get up and pop off a shot before going down from a cutting curse to the chest.

The shot struck true and one of the Death Eaters screamed before crumpling.

Harry was surprised by the voice howling in his head. _How dare they do this? In broad daylight in front of the whole world, in front of me! How dare those Bastards._

The rage ignited red hot when one of the Death Eaters started laughing maniacally and Harry's world solidified around a single purpose, making them pay.

He popped up and pulled his wand from it's holster "Stupefy!" He growled and bolt of energy lashed out and caused the Death Eater to stagger before spinning.

"Ah, a little do-gooder eh? Come on out and play little wizard!" He shouted bring his wand to bear on him. "Going to need to do better than a stunner against us boy!"

Harry cursed himself, he'd been stupid going for his old standby giving away his advantage with such a weak lead in. Weak, stupid, how could he stop Voldemort if he wasn't willing to fight! He rolled out from behind the car he'd slid in next to and brought his wand up again.

Fury, pain, fear they all fuelled him in ways he didn't understand and he bellowed a curse. "Reducto!"

The Death Eater brought up a shield to counter the moment he appeared but wasn't any more prepared for what Harry had unleashed than the boy himself.

In times past when Harry had fired the Reducto curse he'd fired a small blue burst of energy which all but vaporized the target. This time when he fired however he got much more than I bargained for.

The curse lashed out, a larger roiling bolas of electric blue energy which rocketed across the distance in between them. Such was it's power that the pavement beneath it shattered throwing up debris behind it as it chewed up the ground to the target.

The Death Eaters shield had no hope of stopping the spell and winked out under the impact allowing the spell to hammer straight into the Death Eaters stomach. Harry watched in a mixture of awe and horror as the Death Eater was ripped in half and disintegrated.

Harry didn't have the chance to reflect on that as the other Death Eaters were still focused on their target. It was strange that the limo in the middle was not a pile of slag by now, but Harry wasn't about to complain.

He could hear screaming coming from the car and he redirected his aim on the next closest Death Eater and fired a string of cutters at him. The man saw the spell fire out of the corner of his eye and tried to dodge but caught one across the chest howling.

This likely would have drawn the attention of the others but the wail of sirens was rapidly filling the air and the Death Eaters were looking about in alarm. "Damn it, this is taking too blood long!" One on the far side of the car shouted. "We need to abort."

"Not until I've had my fill," Snarled another.

"Not your call Amycus you moron, so shut it! Everyone pull out!" Snapped the other and disapparated with a snap.

Harry spotted a Police car skidding around a nearby corner, it's lights flaring. As the air started filling with the crackle of disapparation Harry realized the one Death Eater had disobeyed his leader and was gleefully firing curses at one of the windows which was starting to buckle under the strain.

Harry didn't know why he did it but he shouted, "Hey!" His following Reducto went wide and the Death Eater finally realized they weren't alone. Apparently he also recognized who had interrupted his play time too.

"Ah, Harry Potter! The Dark Lord will be so pleased when I bring him your head!" He snarled snapping off a spray of curses at the teenager who dived aside before scrambling to his feet.

Harry fired off a pair of cutters at him his sides burning as he panted. "Really, I thought he wanted the pleasure of killing me himself!"

Apparently Amycus didn't really care as he didn't hold back in the least. Curse after curse was hurled from his wand and Harry had to move quickly to stay out of the line of fire.

Still Harry felt a curse sting his right leg just as something thumped hard into his shoulder and he crashed to the ground.

The Death Eater cackled in pleasure and levelled his wand at him again on to stagger as a loud crack rent the air. Hair didn't waste time and aimed his wand. "Reducto!"

Amycus was virtually on top of him when Harry fired, so from his position on the ground the Reductor slammed up through the underside of his jaw. Not so powerful as the previous one this curse nevertheless managed to cause a spray of blood and the man went over like a puppet with its strings cut.

Harry collapsed with relief, only stirring as he heard the sound of running feet. He heard a clatter and saw that his wand had fallen from his rapidly numbing fingers. He considered reaching for it with his other hand but decided against it as he spotted the police officers rushing across the intersection, weapons drawn.

Harry stiffened slightly as he heard a loud crack of two, but eased when he couldn't spot any wizards among those rushing about. "We got a live one over here!" One barked nearby and Harry saw them start moving in his direction.

He tried to raise his hands but only the one would obey, "Whoa Easy," He yelped, "I surrender, I'm on your side anyways."

To say the Policemen closing in around him looked less than impressed was an understatement, and Harry wondered if they were planning on shooting him where he lay.

It was only the fire cracker crackle heralding the arrival of the Aurors which diverted their attention from him. He spotted red coated Witches and wizards being headed off by the Police and felt light headed. It took a minute for him to realize it but he had blood on his hands from somewhere and was feeling woozy. "I uh— hope nobody minds, but I'm gonna just pass out now I think…" He said thickly and one of the nearby officers speaking with an Auror looked at him.

It was the Auror who spoke but Harry didn't see that as his vision startled tunnelling, "Merlin, is that Harry Potter?"

Harry snorted in amusement, trying to ignore the blood in his mouth. "Oh good, someone recognized me?" Harry slurred sarcastically before finally passing out.

* * *

The first thing Harry felt upon waking, was pain. Everything hurt and his head felt fuzzy, his mouth, feeling as though full of cotton, tasted foul.

It took a few minutes to fully process even that much about his current status, but eventually Harry managed to gather enough lucidity together in one place to crack open his eyes. Squinting accusingly up at the dull fluorescent lights set into the ceiling above him. Even their light lancing through his aching brain like fire.

Harry drew in a breath to groan and almost gagged on the scent of anti-septic. He recoiled slightly at the smell and felt the rasp of rough cloth against his skin and the tug of something in his arm.

It took him a while to figure it out, but that object in his arm had to be an IV, he was in a hospital. A muggle hospital at that.

How in the world had he gotten here? The fog of muggle drugs making it very hard to remember, but eventually a long time later he recalled that he had been in a battle. The details eluded him, but he was certain he'd been fighting the Death Eaters. If that was the case though, why was he here? Instead of at Saint Mungo's?

A memory struggled to the surface, a flash and a black clad figure burned away by searing blue light. He'd killed someone.

He was struggling to reflect on this reality somewhat mournfully when something off to his side beeped drawing his frazzled attention, he lolled his head sideways to stare at the little monitor set beside his bed.

"Ah, he's awake." A voice drawled, its tone sardonic as he started searching for the source.

"What do you expect?" A second chided. "He's a wizard,"

Harry couldn't quite wrap his head around the thought of someone in a muggle hospital knowing he was a wizard, so he gave up for the time being. Finally, a woman in nurse's scrubs stepped into his roving field of vision. A short but pleasant looking woman of about middle age with greying blonde hair.

He tried to acknowledge her, however all he managed was a rasping croak.

A doctor appeared next, a tall man with greying hair, a stethoscope hanging about his neck. "How are we doing today young man?" He asked kindly. Harry tried to respond, he truly did, but all he managed was another feeble croak.

"A little water I think," The Doctor suggested and the nurse brought a little cup of water which Harry gratefully used to wet his mouth and throat with.

"Thank you," he rasped, before casting his eyes around. "Where am I?"

The man smiled ruefully, placing the cup down on the side table. "You are in the Surgical recovery unit of Saint Thomas Hospital. Even with the potions we had to operate to pull that bullet out of you."

Bullet? Harry wondered, how had he gotten shot? Forget that, how had these muggle's gotten a hold of potions?

The door opened and a woman he felt a vague sense of familiarity from entered. The woman was headed off by the Nurse who was frowning mightily at the intrusion. "I'm sorry miss, but medical personnel only for the time being."

The woman presented an ID badge to the Doctor. "Andromeda Tonks, fully qualified healer from Saint Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Here are my credentials." The woman declared handing over a clipboard as well.

The Doctor looked at both objects before nodding slowly, running a small black object from his pocket over them before stepping back. "I must say I'm surprised you lot aren't more…concerned to hear about the existence of witches and wizards…" The healer noted eyeing the two muggles with interest.

Harry wanted to nod in agreement but barely managed to shift it on his none too comfortable pillow.

"We're connected to a special unit which are read in on such matters Healer Tonks." The Doctor explained calmly, a small smile quirking his lips.

"Interesting," The Healer murmured before getting back to the business at hand. "Now, can you two please bring me up to speed? They took too long getting the paperwork together…Any scans—um, x-rays, CTs that sort of thing I can see?"

Harry noted the mild surprise from the Doctor before he handed off a folder to the Healer who opened it and pulled out some sheets. "We took these prior to going in for surgery." He explained briefly.

The Healer's eyes skated over an image and she frowned "Damn…they didn't tell me it was that bad."

"It's fortunate we had a magical healer on hand for our team," The Doctor agreed, nodding soberly. "The staff on call nearly lost him before we stepped in."

"The worst damage he suffered was from a curse to his gut, nasty thing ruptured a few organs and scorched the rest." The Doctor noted, "The damage to his left leg came from a piercing hex we believe and we got that patched up right away. Otherwise it's shrapnel damage for the most part aside from the bullet in his right arm." He muttered darkly pulling small clear container with a hunk of deformed metal in from his pocket and showing it to her.

"We got some potions in him before he could go septic or bleed out, and closed the wound in his leg first. After that it was a matter of undoing the damage from his stomach wound. We had to use a combination of mundane and magical techniques to hold him together until our healers arrived. Then we extracted that nine millimetre from his shoulder, had to vanish the bones and regrow them though, it was shattered almost beyond repair. Bloody powerful thing the nine millimetre."

The healer nodded sagely, "If it caused that much damage I'm inclined to agree. Impairment anticipated?"

He shook his head. "Very little, if any, thanks to the potions." The Doctor reported seeming impressed by the woman. "Anything you can add to our records?"

Healer Tonks frowned again, shaking her head. "Not much that's relevant I think. Heals well according to the nurse at the school he attends, large magical core, no allergies in fairly good physical condition…May I take a look?" She asked.

"Of course," The man agreed waving her towards Harry.

She stepped closer to Harry who blinked at her in confusion. "You look a bit familiar?" Harry mumbled uncertainly.

The Healer's eyes flicked to him briefly before she nodded with a sigh. "I imagine I do Mister Potter, I unfortunately look a great deal like my sisters. My name is Healer Tonks in case you missed it earlier."

Harry nodded, though he didn't truly understand it all that well. She smirked in amusement at his dazed expression. "My my, these drugs you have him on are powerful things aren't they?"

A chuckle answered that, "We didn't want to risk more potions than necessary, took enough as is to just patch him up, nearly lost him to blood toxicity after the gut wound was sealed. We had to purge him before continuing" The Doctor noted.

The Healer nodded. "Understood."

She pulled out her wand and conducted a few scans before projecting the readouts for the doctor and nurse to see. "I'm not detecting anything of note right now aside from what we've already covered, a lot of old injuries…and some black magic in his old scar, but that's not surprising."

"Oh?" Asked the Doctor skeptically. Black magic likely not being a regular contaminant in his patients.

"Yes, you see the big scar on his forehead? Look a bit like lightning right? He's famous for it, because it's proof he's the only one to survive the killing curse. Normally that leaves no mark, but however he came through it, changed all that."

A hum of understanding from the Doctor. "I guess I'd be okay with a mark like that over being dead too."

"Can we stop talking about my scar?" Harry complained tiredly.

The Doctor pursed his lips, considering him. "He's going under again." he noted before smiling blandly at his patient. "Yes Harry we'll talk about something else now."

"Thanks." The boy slurred.

The nurse patted his arm, "You just rest okay, you'll heal much faster and be out of here quicker if you do."

"Mmm— sounds good, don't like hospitals." Harry murmured as he started to fade out.

There was silence for a bit, "Any word from his family?" The Healer asked.

A derisive snort answered that, "Yes, unfortunately. Their only comment was that they hoped we wouldn't be charging them for his hospital stay." The doctor noted sourly.

"What really?" She asked sounding appalled.

A grunt of confirmation. "Yes, we're looking into it."

Harry wanted to tell them not to bother, but couldn't seem to speak, so he decided to forget about it, and went to sleep.

* * *

The next time Harry clawed his way back to consciousness he found himself staring blearily at the glowing numbers of the clock. According to it, this time when he woke it was 6:50 AM and he could hear soft music in the distance. Not really his cup of tea, country if he were to guess, but at least it wasn't Celestina Warbeck again.

Harry really just wanted to go back to sleep but couldn't seem to manage it. Too many memories bubbling through his head for that it seemed….He was most certainly late for meeting up with the Dursleys after their shopping trip considering what little he could remember of what happened.

Bits and pieces of a battle kept flittering through his head and he couldn't help but struggle in an effort to remember more of what had happened. It could have been worse he supposed, he had all his body parts near as he could tell, that was something. He hurt, that was for certain, but he could with a little effort move his fingers on his damaged arm, and he didn't have holes in him anymore that he could tell.

He sure was thirsty though…That notion passed out of his head for a moment when he heard rustling off to his side. "Someone over there?" he rasped.

He finally saw the source of the movement properly which had grabbed his attention, when a man sitting in one of the guest chairs sat up at the sound. "Oh hello, didn't realized you awakened yet." Said the youngish looking man wearing a dark suit. "How are you feeling?"

"Not great, but I've been worse." Harry decided groggily. After all he hadn't been crucioed this time so far as he could remember, that was a start right?

The man's eyebrows climbed. "Really, that says something a bit disturbing lad."

Harry had to chuckle tiredly. "I suppose it does at that." He agreed before noticing once again that his mouth was extremely dry. "I'm sorry, but could I trouble you for a bit of water?"

A nodded reply and soon Harry had swigged bit of water from the cup which was then placed on the table. "You need a nurse?" The man asked, noticing his wince when he went to sit up.

"No…" Odd that really, he wasn't _unduly_ uncomfortable or in need of the loo.

"I suppose I'd better introduce myself then." The young man mumbled absently. "My name is Jacob Irons, I'm an agent in service of the British throne."

Harry quirked a brow at him, "A spy?"

The man had a good laugh at that notion, "Ha! No, not quite. Look…Mister Potter, I do need to question you a bit, but I really would feel better if the Nurse made sure everything is semi-under control first."

The boy in the bed sighed the nodded his acceptance, it was only a minute before the man had returned alongside a woman he recognized as Healer Tonks. "Ah, Mister Potter" She greeted. "I assume you're feeling a bit more with it this time?"

He nodded again. "Yes ma'am."

"Good, let me check the readings," She murmured checking over the machines and then casting a few diagnostic spells. "Okay, your blood pressure and such look good. They've fitted you with a catheter so you won't be needing the john any time soon."

Harry's look of confusion said it all even before he spoke. "Er—what?"

She gave him a sympathetic look. "They fed a tube up into your bladder so you're not having to try and run to the washroom all the time." His eyes widened comically as he considered the implications of that.

Healer Tonks ignored his dawning horror and turned to the officer. "Now, if you are going to be doing any questioning, I must insist I'm here to keep an eye on his vitals. Too much stress might set him back."

"Understood," The man agreed simply before pulling up a chair beside the bed. "Now, Mister Potter. I'll preface this by stating you aren't in any trouble. Our own investigations have conclusively proven you're not in any way the guilty party in the attack. However I must ask if you desire anyone here to represent you as is your right?"

Harry sat considering that for a time, not only could he barely remember this attack, but he didn't know whom he'd call. At one time he might have asked for Dumbledore…but nowadays? Considering how his summer had progressed thus far? "No I'm good, are…are we safe here?"

He couldn't help but think just how exposed he was to angry Death Eaters in a Muggle Hospital. Mister Irons was nodding calmly however as he pulled out a note pad. "Yes, believe it or not we have a few method of protecting against magic in place. Now…yesterday, can you tell me what you remember?"

Harry nodded rubbing at his forehead with his free hand. Deciding to ignore the questions that statement raised for a moment. "I was…out in London with my relatives I think? And we decided to part ways for a bit while they shopped…" He didn't go into the fact they'd made it quite clear they didn't want him around save to carry bags now and then back to the car. "I was told to meet back with them at a certain time…" He remembered slowly but surely piecing his memories together. "I was just walking along near Trafalgar square… when I heard someone yell out, right?" He said, almost questioningly to himself. "A curse I think, and there was an explosion…" He paused feeling sheepish, looking apologetically to the man beside him. "Er—a magical curse that is, I don't mean they swore."

The man smiled in amusement, "Understood."

Harry cleared his throat, "I spotted Death Eaters appearing around the square once I regained my senses and…" He shook his head, to dispel some more of the fog. "I just remember being really mad sir."

"Oh? Irons asked curiously.

"Yes, I remember, I was so _angry_ that they had the audacity to murder innocent people in front of me, I—I saw one of them kill the police escort." He murmured, remembering a streak of green light cutting down a bobby, and the man nodded in sympathy. "I attacked the nearest Death Eater but my stunner didn't seem to do anything, I suspect he had Dragon hide on."

"He did," Irons confirmed, looking up only briefly from his notes. "Carry on."

"I managed to dodge his counter attack I think…and tried something a bit more destructive sir…but well it didn't work as expected."

"What spell did you use?" Irons inquired. "It left quite a dent in the pavement too."

Harry remembered the blue white colour of his curse. "It's called the Reductor curse."

There was a pause as the man considered that, he'd seen records of what was left of that Death Eater and shook his head. Noting the boys expression he tilted his head, "Your first kill then?"

Harry shook his head feeling ashamed. "No."

"Really?"

"Thats—a really long story from a different incident, I didn't mean to kill that one, but he was trying to kill me at the time." Harry murmured remembering Quirrel.

"Interesting, huh…What happened next?" The man asked flipping to a new page.

"I moved in closer to the others as I was sure he wasn't getting back up. I attacked another who wasn't paying attention, they all seemed too busy trying to break into that car….who was in it anyway? They seemed to really want them bad." He asked remembering the battered black sedan in the middle of the intersection.

The man blinked in surprise, looking up. "You didn't know?"

"No."

Irons paused considering that. "We'll come to that in a minute I think."

"Okay?" Harry agreed quizzically, rubbing tiredly at his forehead.

"You'll be interested to know I'm sure, that we have the one you wounded in custody, what happened next?"  
Harry thought back. "The sirens were getting closer by then, and the other Death Eaters still hadn't noticed me in the chaos. They got upset, they'd run out of time I think. And most of them disapparated. One stayed though, he really wanted to hurt whoever was inside. He was focusing on one of the windows which was starting to cave. So I fired at him."

He sighed rubbing his shoulder absently, "I missed, we ended up duelling but I wasn't ready for how quick he was out in the open. He wounded me a couple times I guess, I think he was enjoying himself. But then the police showed up and I went down. I think they shot him but he didn't fall so I hit him with a curse. Pretty sure he's dead too."

"He is, that was Amycus Carrow by the way, in case you were curious." Irons reported.

There was a disgusted hiss and the two men looked to the healer, who had remained silent up to that point.

"Sorry, just…the Carrows are a prime example of what happens when you inbreed too much. There are rumours his twin sister's daughters are actually his as well."

Harry made a disgusted face. He knew the Carrow daughters from school.

"Interesting I'll make a note of that," Irons agreed jotting it down. "Do you remember anything else?"

A shake of the head. "Not much, at that point I was pretty well done and lay down. I remember feeling really woozy. Thought for a moment that the police were just going to shoot me for being there." He paused considering the fact they might well have done so before that point, considering the bullet he recalled they'd pulled from his shoulder. "Anyways that's about where I started fading out."

Irons finished copying some notes down. "I understand." he huffed a sigh and looked back up at Harry and smiled ruefully. "I supposed I had better tell you just whom it was you saved then shouldn't I?"

Harry felt his lips quirk slightly in amusement and he offered a small nod. It was the healer who spoke next however, "I admit I find myself curious in that regard as well…"

Irons settled again nodding with a rueful smile. "Alright, now Harry, though it seems you were not aware of it, your actions preserved the lives of the Duke of Cambridge and his family."

Harry's mind just about shut down at that and he stared, mouth slightly open at the man across from him. It was slightly comforting to note however, once he had regained himself that was, that the healer seemed at a loss as well.

"I um — I confess, I am not up on the current muggle gentry…" the woman admitted.

While Harry was not terribly surprised to find out this was the case apparently Irons was. "My goodness, you people really are somewhat isolated these days aren't you?" He said rhetorically.

Harry cleared his throat, "Actually sir, I know who he is." It was after all somewhat difficult to avoid such things if you or anyone you shared a house with watched any news from the UK on the tele.

He looked to the healer who was looking to him expectantly. "Er—right, the Duke of Cambridge is Prince William, he's the Queen's grandson."

Healer Tonks might not have been up to date on the local gentry but she would have to have been brain dead not to know that the UK had a Queen.

Irons smiled slightly at her shocked expression, "It's highly likely that someday he'll take the throne himself."

Harry was nodding, his brow furrowing as a thought occurred to him. "Not to criticize, especially as I suspect this was not your job, but…shouldn't there have been a larger escort?" Harry asked the man tentatively. Whenever he'd seen Royal motorcades and such on the tele it had always included far larger protective details.

A grimace formed on the other man's face and he nodded agreement, "Indeed, and according to what I was told, it was an unscheduled trip across town. Two police cars were deemed enough for such a short jaunt." Irons explained, un-offended. "I assume that whoever is charged with such things is rethinking such assumptions."

"They uh—none of them were hurt I hope?" Harry ventured.

A shaken head in reply. "No, the driver was killed, as were all the guards, but they were fortunate enough to come away from it shaken but no worse for wear otherwise."

Harry sagged somewhat in relief, he was glad. He had intervened after all because others were in danger, that he'd succeeded in protecting them was worth the risk he'd taken. He shuddered slightly thinking of how reckless he'd been. Charging a group of Death Eaters by his lonesome like that.

They must have noticed his expression as the other two looked at him curiously. He smiled weakly at them, "Sorry, I am glad I helped protect them…I just sorta realized how outclassed I was."

Irons' expression was grim, "I hope you understand this Harry. We owe you a great deal. We had a number of dead officers as well as a dead driver and bodyguard. The Prince and his family were trapped and in imminent danger of being killed." He stated firmly. "Seven of those Death Eater bastards all around, and what happens?" He asked rhetorically spreading his hands grandly.

"This kid, who happens to be a wizard to boot, steps in and begins knocking them down one by one." He said shaking his head almost disbelievingly. "You can understand our astonishment. We're lucky it worked out as well as it did."

Irons smirked. "We're fortunate really. Our people arrived on scene, and were in an understandably foul mood. No offence, but considering everything, I think they were up for just leaving another wand bearer to bleed out. It was only thanks to an Auror recognizing you that you got medical attention in a somewhat timely fashion." He admitted, before giving Harry a knowing look. "It seems you have something of a storied existence yourself."

The face Harry made in response to that earned him an amused chuckle from the man, "Yes, I was informed you would likely react like that. Point is, we got you here and stabilized while we ran some background checks. Making sure you were who they thought you were." He gave Harry a significant look. "I can tell you the Ministry made an almighty fuss when we wouldn't just turn you over. Particularly the Chief Warlock I believe?"

"Dumbledore," the healer relayed patiently at the somewhat uncertain tone he'd taken on that last part. He nodded in agreement.

"Yes, that was the name. Not one I'd heard before." Irons apologized, before getting back on track. "It actually took a Royal Decree, once we confirmed your identity, to force him to back off. You, Harry, are now officially under the aegis of the Crown's authority."

Harry nodded thoughtfully as he considered the possible implications of that. That the Queen, who so far as he was aware was a muggle, was able to override ministerial authority? Well that was _quite_ a revelation.

Irons opened a case he'd left out of the way and pulled out a newspaper which he handed to Harry with a smile. "Thought you might get a kick out of this. It's got the particulars all wrong of course, for obvious reasons, but otherwise it's accurate."

Harry stared at the headline.

 ** _Assassination attempt on the Duke of Cambridge!_**

 ** _By: P.E Edgerton_**

 _In a bold attempt to kill the Duke Of Cambridge and his family, a Royal convoy traversing the city yesterday morning was attacked as it entered Trafalgar Square._

 _According to reports, tragedy was only averted through the efforts of a single teenager. One Harry James Potter, native of Surrey stepped in and fought the assailants. Disabling one and killing two others while being seriously injured in the process._

 _It has been stated by those investigating the incident that if not for the teenager's daring intervention the Prince and his family would almost certainly have been slain._

 _In other news attempts by police to speak with the boy's relatives were met with surprising hostility and considering the content of the those discussions Child Services have been called in to investigate just what conditions this young hero grew up in._

That certainly brought Harry up short, and he looked sharply to Irons. "They're investigating the Dursleys?" At his small nod Harry looked back to the page. "Wow…"

"Reading about your heroics?" A voice asked from the doorway, causing all present to turn, finding the Doctor he recalled from his previous bout of wakefulness.

Harry blushed and offered a reluctant smile. "Er—yeah, I suppose so."

The Doctor nodded in a friendly manner, "You've certainly earned it considering." He noted, before turning to look to the woman in the room. "How are we doing Healer Tonks? Is our patient holding together?"

The Healer nodded, "Andromeda please, my daughter is the one who prefers to go by her last name. As for the patient, he's healing apace and doesn't _seem_ to be in any significant pain, his BP and pulse are good."

The Doctor nodded absently, chewing his cheek. "Hmm, sounds promising, how are you feeling young man?" He asked looking to Harry now. "Any pain, discomfort?"

Harry shrugged, "Some, not the worst I've had though." He reported honestly.

The man gave him a skeptical look. "It's been three hours since your last dose of pain meds," He noted, before giving him a stern look. "You're not downplaying what you are going through are you?"

Harry shook his head, before sighing when he saw they were not convinced. "You have to understand, after being a crucio or two, this really isn't that bad." He licked his lips, trying to wet them, before gratefully taking a sip from an offered cup of water. "It's not pleasant by any stretch, but it's not nearly that bad."

The other three were now staring at him in astonishment, "Who put you under the torture curse?" Andromeda Tonks asked sounding appalled.

"Voldemort did," was his short reply, earning a small flinch from the woman and prompting a sigh on his own part. "I take it from your reaction the Ministry is still denying his return?"

"Er—yes?" The healer replied looking a touch rueful now.

Harry snorted darkly, "Why am I not surprised?"

The doctor glanced between them questioningly, "This is all very interesting I'm sure, but back on topic please. You've been exposed to the cruciatus curse before?" He asked, getting a confirming nod from Harry, "How many times?"

Harry tried to remember but could not remember an exact number, "I lost count, it all sort of bled together."

The doctor nodded before heaving a sigh, "Bugger, alright. I can see how you might have a higher than average tolerance for pain then." He accepted. "But if it starts getting bad enough that you can't rest, let one of us know alright?"

Harry nodded agreement, and the man settled appear satisfied for the moment, "Now, is there anything we can get you otherwise?"

He had to consider that, without pain being an overriding concern he had to reassess what his body was telling him. "Food?" He suggested. He was feeling a touch weak and empty.

"You feel up to some food then?" The Doctor asked to confirm.

Harry hesitated wondering how much he could handle. "Maybe just something small to test it out first?"

The Doctor nodded, "We can do that," He agreed making a note on his clipboard.

"And as for me, we'll conduct a proper interview later okay?" Irons cut in.

The Doctor nodded, seeming pleased that his patient wouldn't be subjected to all that just yet. "For now, I've been asked to inform you that we've cleared you for one guest at a time, you have a few down in the waiting room."

Harry blinked numbly at him, "Who?"

The Doctor checked his clipboard, "Let's see….Albus Dumbledore?" He began getting a rueful snort from Harry. "Remus Lupin…Nymphadora Tonks?" He looked to the Healer, "You're daughter I assume?" He asked getting a nod in reply. "And a Hermione Granger,"

Harry was momentarily surprised the Weasley clan wasn't present and stuffing the waiting room to the breaking point, before he remembered this was a muggle hospital. The Weasleys might not have been as hostile to muggles as some, but they were far from comfortable among them either.

He didn't know Nymphadora Tonks at all, and assumed she was largely present for her mother more than he. And frankly he wasn't as thrilled as he might have been about Dumbledore's presence, considering the silence he'd endured this summer had the old wizard's finger prints all over it.

Not that it excused the others involved. Hermione's silence had particularly stung after all they'd been through…

He sighed and rubbed tiredly at his brow, he couldn't turn them all away, he knew. It would be better to accept one of them and put the others off until later. "Could I see Remus Lupin please?"

The Doctor nodded as the other two began edging towards the door. "Of course, I'll have him along to see you presently,"

* * *

If there was a hell for werewolves it was almost certainly a muggle hospital, Remus Lupin decided. Hospitals in general were hardly the gentlest on a wolf's nose, but muggle hospitals came with a chemical flair which was even worse than the odour of their magical counterparts. He'd resorted to a numbing spell on his nose to dull the smells so he would stop sneezing.

He was glad it had worked, as he doubted they would have let him go see Harry if he was still making such a racket.

Remus had been informed a minute or so earlier that Harry had wanted to see him and had hurried along the corridor from the waiting room to the room where Harry was being cared for.

He was somewhat surprised when a witch in muggle attire, stopped him pulling out her wand. "Remus John Lupin, correct?" She asked brusquely.

"Yes," He ventured uncertainly looking the dark haired woman over carefully.

She gestured with her wand. "Step over here a moment, just a routine security sweep." She instructed.

He tensed, "Er— you are aware I am—"

"A lycanthrope?" She asked blandly, "Yes, don't worry, it's not a problem." She said as she ran her wand over him a couple times.

That brought him up short, It wasn't everyday someone just shrugged off the fact you turned into a giant slavering wolf creature every month.

"You may go in," She said as she finished up. "Try not to get him too worn out though."

Remus nodded jerkily and stepped through the door she was now holding open for him.

Harry…did not look well. Which he supposed was to be expected, but there was just so much worse about seeing the boy so pale and thin tucked in amongst all the machines which he was hooked into.

"Ah cub…you look like crap." He grumbled mildly as he approached the bed side.

Harry just chuckled. "I suppose I do, yeah."

"How are you feeling?" He asked as he settled himself in a chair beside the bed.

Harry shrugged. "Sore, not as bad as sometimes though,"

Remus grimaced thinking of the times he knew Harry had been in the hospital wing. "That's something I suppose." He allowed begrudgingly.

He looked Harry over, noting the wary look in Harry's eyes as they regarded him. As much as he wished he could ignore it, he supposed he knew full well why Harry was standoffish.

The greying werewolf sighed, running a tired hand back through his hair. "You're not happy with us right now are you?" He asked semi-rhetorically.

Harry's expression was not pleasant, a sort of dark humour briefly crossing his lips. "If you mean you, Sirius, Hermione and Ron in particular, yeah I guess you could say that." He agreed.

He tried to find a way to explain himself, one that didn't leave him sounding like a total arse. It was harder than he liked to admit. "Dumbledore ordered it Harry." He started, earning a derisive snort and rolled eyes from Harry. "We did argue you know? He said it was to protect you and give you time to cope with what had happened."

Left unsaid was the fact that he could easily tell that it had been a dire mistake on their parts to listen to the old man.

"Yes, because it's a great idea, to leave a teenager, who's just witnessed a murder, alone with his thoughts for a whole summer." Harry noted dryly, no amusement or humour in sight now, "Are you really trying to tell me that the Marauders and the 'Brightest Witch' of the age, couldn't have contacted me if they really wanted to?"

Remus sighed, defeated. The rationalizations he and the others had created in their heads falling away in the face of common sense. It didn't help that he truly had held his own reservations about all of it from the beginning. "You're right," He admitted, "You are, truly. I'm sorry. It's just…hard, to go against Dumbledore when he puts his foot down."

Harry sighed wearily, allowing his head to fall back against the pillow, and silence stretched out uncomfortably between them for a time. "You know, I can understand Ron, even if I can't forgive him anymore." Harry started slowly, bitterly.

"He's flaked out on me too many times. Always one to take the path of least resistance." He allowed. "But you three…"

Remus winced, "What do you want me to say Harry?"

Harry snorted. "Say? No—no, I want you to listen," He growled. "To understand what I've been going through."

Remus braced himself as Harry sat up a bit more again, "Sirius, is in the most understandable position of the three of you." Harry allowed. "He's a wanted criminal after all, who is mentally and spiritually scarred by his time in Azkaban. It still isn't easy to accept, but I can see how it could happen. Dumbledore basically has him by the short and curlies if he doesn't play along."

Harry shrugged, grabbing a brief swig of water from a cup on the table beside him. "As for you…Well, you look up to Dumbledore, I assume for the way he let you into Hogwarts. I'm virtually certain it was his advice and your own feelings about your condition, which kept you away all these years." Harry remarked idly, "It's hard to see past the way things have always been right?"

Here Harry grimaced. "Hermione though…" Remus ached, seeing the pain which briefly flashed through Harry's eyes as he said his friend's name.

"She argued the most with him you know…" Remus ventured, hoping to ease the hurt there somewhat.

Harry, if anything looked more sober at that, "Try to understand me Remus." He stared slowly. "Hermione was the one I thought I could trust without question, the one I thought understood me better than anyone else…and who cared what happened to me."

He took a shaky breath, "We've fought you know? And Merlin knows I've screwed up a few times in regards to her…" He trailed off wearily. "Did you know she actually kissed me on the cheek when last we saw each other? She even made me promise to stay in contact. Ironic that." Harry noted darkly.

"It's stupid I know, but I actually started to wonder if she was starting to see me as more than just a friend." Harry murmured, before steeling himself again. "But now, arguing or not. At Dumbledore's word, she falls in line and barely says two words to me. None of it really anything meaningful. I had hoped—expected better from her."

There was an implied message in there that Harry hadn't expected the same from the other, Remus included. Which caused him to hurt, realizing how badly he'd failed his friend's son.

"What are you going to do then, Harry?" He asked eventually.

Harry snorted and shrugged, "What is there for me to do? Quite frankly I only stick with Ron because he was my first friend, and I have very few of those. I don't see me and him being the same after this. As for you and Sirius? Well, I'm hardly about to throw away the only family I have." He noted.

Remus wasn't certain he felt comforted by any of that.

Eventually Harry shook his head, getting back on topic. "As for Hermione, I really don't know."

Remus was uncertain about what he was going to say next but few the need to try and repair some of the damage that had clearly been done. "Would you take a little advice? If I were to offer some?"

Harry hesitated, before nodding stiffly. "Has she ever really failed you before?" Remus asked calmly.

The boy pondered that quietly before shaking his head. "No, the one time we had a serious fight before this, it was just a well intentioned misunderstanding I blew out of proportion. Otherwise, until now, she's always been there for me….which is why it hurts so much more now I think. She wasn't there when I needed her most…"

Remus nodded understanding. "Then my advice to you would be this. Forgive her." He raised a hand to stall Harry who looked set to protest. "Forgive her, but let her know, unequivocally, just what her actions have done to you." He clarified.

At Harry's questioning look he explained, "Very few people enjoy realizing they've caused someone else suffering, and it may clarify for her the consequences her actions have in regards to you. Forgive her, if she is honestly regretful, as I believe she will be. If she ever betrays you like this again, knowing that she fully understands the consequences, then you can have a think about how things really are between you two and if you wish to forgive her again."

Harry considered that a moment before nodding, and Remus continued. "She may truly think that what she is doing is for the best, which considering her reverence for Dumbledore might very well be the case. Proving to her that this isn't the case, should make her re-examine her position at the very least."

The lad considered that again, before sighing and jerking his chin down in a sharp nod. "I just…I'll try to explain it to her, but I wish I could show her just how what she did made me feel."

Remus chuckled sadly, he was pretty sure almost everyone had felt similarly at one point or another. "That, I'm afraid, isn't possible so far as I know." He patted Harry's leg through the blanket, "Just do your best, she knows you well enough, that should make up for any difficulty communicating."

At Harry's thoughtful look he asked, "Do you want to see her now?"

A firm shake of the head was Harry's response though, "No, I need to rest…and I could use some time to think about how to talk to her without shouting."

Remus could understand that, "Okay, rest for now then. I'll let them know you're short on energy right now." He promised before heading for the door, only pause and turn to consider Harry a moment. "Have a good rest cub, I'll see you later."

As the door closed behind him, Remus drew a deep breath before letting it out in a gusty sigh. Well that had been unpleasant. Worst of all he couldn't say he didn't deserve the charges Harry had laid at his feet. Which hurt more than a little.

That said he felt sympathy for Harry's struggles too. Particularly those to do with the other gender. Merlin knew he'd had enough troubles with women in his own life after all. He would have been angry at Hermione if he didn't know just how worried she was about him. If she'd been as disturbingly unconcerned as Ron had been, that would be different."

After nodding to the witch on guard at the door, he passed through the ward and out into the waiting room.

Hermione, predictably was the first on her feet and hurrying up to him. "How is he — is he alright — how much pain is he in — can I go see him?" She asked in a rush.

He chuckled lightly and raised his hands to fend her off for a moment, "Hold on, hold on now, he's resting now alright?" He said to her calmly. "He's healing rapidly according to the staff and from what I can see that's true."

Hermione nodded, a decidedly hopeful look on her face. So he continued. "He's not in too much pain, but you'll have to wait until he's up again before going to see him."

A thoughtful hum from the background drew both of their attention to Dumbledore who was now waiting patiently for a chance to speak. "That is very good to hear, yes indeed." The old wizard murmured looking thoughtful. "Have they indicated when they will release him into our care?"

Remus had to stifle a spike of irritation at that, he could almost feel his hackles rise. The Headmaster had done little else except ask similar questions since arriving. "No, they haven't. He is protected though," He said, carefully neutral.

At Dumbledore's skeptical look he elaborated. "I spotted three armed muggle guards as well as two magical, that's not counting the healers, doctor and nurse. Also I smelled a great deal of oil and propellent coming from one of the rooms nearby. If I were to guess there's a large response team on watch in there."

The Headmaster looked frustrated, but nodded his understanding. "Very well…did he indicate any desire to see myself or Miss Granger in the near future?"

Here Remus sighed, "He wasn't to talk to Hermione, yes. He's not happy with you Headmaster, yes I explained your reasons. He was less than impressed."

Dumbledore opened his mouth to protest, while Hermione now looked decidedly worried, "Reiterating your arguments to me aren't going to change Harry's opinion Headmaster." He pointed out somewhat sharply.

The Headmaster's mouth snapped shut for a moment, before he decided to speak again. "Very well, if you could let me know when he is feeling more cooperative, I believe I shall take my leave. Tonks, you have watch until you are relieved." He said before sweeping off without a backward glance."

Remus had to fight down the urge to glare at the man's retreating back. _More cooperative_ , the man seemed determined to believe that Harry's issues and feeling were merely the consequence of a fit of pique it seemed.

"He's really mad at me too isn't he?" A small voice asked, drawing his attention back to Hermione, who now stood looking rather distraught. "Should I—should I leave too, do you think?"

Remus shook his head emphatically, "No. He really does want to talk with you Hermione, and while I think at one time he was mad at you, I'd say he's more hurt than anything now."

He raised a hand to stall any questions, "Look, he has things to say to you, it's part of the reason he wanted time to rest and think before he met with you. But I think it'd be best if he were the one to tell you what's going on."

"I really messed up didn't I?" She murmured, looking a bit tearful now.

He sighed. "Perhaps, but don't count yourself out until he's had a chance to talk with you about things, okay?" Remus suggested.

Hermione nodded sadly and he looked to Tonks for some help. "Why don't you two go grab a bite to eat in the mean time?" The pink haired auror suggested, faux brightly. "That might make you feel a little better, and it'll help pass the time until he's ready to have that chat."

Here Hermione made a bit of a face, "Hospital food is universally terrible," She muttered, before sighing, and offering a small nod. "Okay, maybe you're right. Better than sitting here worrying needlessly. Maybe they have something in the gift shop that's worth reading?"

Remus nodded his thanks to Tonks as he led the younger witch off. It'd all work out he suspected, but all the same it couldn't hurt to keep Hermione's mind off things.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Please review or comment. It really helps!


	5. Insanity

**Author's Note:** Bit of an older one here. Last of the 'semi-complete' plot bunnies I'm afraid. My take on the whole 'Vernon goes insane' trope/cliche.

 **WARNING:** Depictions of the aftermath of torture.

* * *

 **Monday June 22nd 2015**

 **Privet Drive, Little Whinging**

 **Surrey U.K**

Tonks shifted nervously back and forth on her feet, as she waited for her partner to show. She'd been assigned the nightshift this time. An assignment she categorically hated, so naturally she had received. She worked long hours as an Auror as it was, so taking an additional five to six hours out of her day, that she could have spent sleeping, in order to watch over an adolescent boy, was not her idea of fun.

Not that Harry Potter, the boy in question, was a bad sort. Quite the opposite in fact. The times she'd met him she'd found herself liking the lad. However that didn't change the fact that she was absolutely bloody exhausted. She'd been injured in the battle at the Ministry a little over two weeks ago. And in the mean time she'd healed and been discharged from the hospital, and returned to active duty. However follow that up with the emotional roller coaster of the battle's aftermath and she was just about as close as she could get to dead on her feet she reckoned.

"Come on Dung, where are you?" She grumbled irritably to herself. The loathsome little sneak-thief was taking his bloody sweet time responding to her call. She'd sent out a patronus message a little while ago in the interest of getting a read on Harry's activities the last couple days. It had been strangely quiet.

"Yeh called Tonksie?" a greasy voice asked behind her. She whirled to see the shabby little man stumbling out of the shadows. _Figures_ she snarled to herself, Mundungus Fletcher was already drunk on the job.

"Didn't last year teach you anything Dung? What do you think Dumbledore'll do if he catches you drunk while on duty?" She snapped.

The cockney rascal shrugged elaborately, it was curious the way the little man could turn a simple action like that into a whole body affair. "Dunno Tonks, ain't much bothe' by that honestly. Sooner I'm out o' this mess the better."

She rolled her eyes, a Gryffindor Mundungus was not. The man hadn't an ounce of courage in his body, the only reason he helped them at all was that he owed the old man big time. "Fine, whatever. It's your neck. What's been going on today, you seen Harry out and about?" She asked, rubbing her eyes tiredly in resignation.

The rangy little man dug around in his pocket for a bit, before he lit up a foul smelling cigar. Dung then tried to bludgeon his alcohol addled brain into coughing up the information requested, but it was slow in coming. "Nah, Remus hasn' seen the lad either. Think he's lyin' low after what 'appened to your cousin?"

Tonks considered that, Harry had by all reports been hit pretty hard by Sirius' death, not that she blamed him. But considering who he had for relatives? "That'd never get him out of chores with those lot Dung. Bloody slave drivers. What have they been up to?"

"Not done much near as I can tell." He took another puff of his cigar. "Remus said the lady an' the mini whale've scarpered. Packed up some things and took the car somewhere." He paused considering some more. "Wolf boy figured tha' they heard about the trouble brewin' and decided to get ou' of town for a while."

She blinked at that. So it was just Harry and the Uncle? That was strange, usually if the Dursleys left Harry behind at the house they went together. "What's the big one been up to?" She asked, pondering that.

Mundungus sighed, dropping the cigar on the ground and grinding it out. "Dunno, don't much care. You know him, sits in front of the TV all day when he's not fillin' up at the table." It said something that a worm like Mundungus didn't like Dursley either.

She peered at the house. The lad's bedroom light wasn't even on. She turned to consider Dung, who was still swaying on his feet. "Dung, get out of here. Better I'm alone than stuck with you as backup." She growled. "Anyone complains, tell 'em I sent you on your way."

"Cheers Tonksie." Dung said and stumbled away.

It was troubling, the Dursleys were nothing if not predictable. They did the same thing, day in and day out. And the one thing they _never_ did was let up on Harry. Rain, shine, or hellfire wouldn't stop them sending him out to tend that damn garden of theirs.

So why hadn't he been out doing that? On the one hand, their warning might finally have worked, and gotten through the idiot's collective skulls, but she tended to doubt it. And as she'd said to Mundungus, even if the lad was in a funk and didn't feel like doing much they wouldn't have let him off his chores. Bloody abnormal that he hadn't been spotted yet was what it was, not even to let out his owl? Harry loved Hedwig.

Something was up. She grimaced as she considered that, staring at the house across from her. Technically they had a strict non-interference policy when it came to the Dursleys…despite the threats delivered. However, almost contradictorily, their primary mandate was to protect Harry at all costs. And something was definitely wrong with the boy. She could wait until Remus showed again…Merlin knew he was one of the more vocal supporters for getting Harry out of Number 4.

But something ate at her, Harry never let anything get in the way of sending out hedwig before…She paused as a passing cars headlights caused something to catch the light. _How'd I miss that before?_ She wondered. There on the small shingle below Harry's window were letters. Abandoned by their messenger owls. She'd only ever heard of that happening when someone failed to acknowledge the owls altogether.

Her sense of disquiet deepened, but still she hesitated. Dumbledore had been very clear. "Trust me Nymphadora, the boy will be fine. I know what I am doing, it's all for the best,"

She scowled again, _to hell with that._ She checked both ways. Something her father had pounded into her when she was young. More than a few witches and wizards had been killed for not obeying this basic safety protocol in the modern age. Then proceeded to cross the street.

Tonks marched up to the front step, the little motion sensor over the door activating the small light overhead, and she knocked.

And…. _nothing_. She huffed a sigh stepping back to look around before she knocked again. Still nothing. She pulled her wand and peered around one last time before directing it against the small door handle. There was a click and with a gentle push the door swung open. The house was eerily quiet.

She closed the door behind her and peeked around the corner into the small living room. _Ah that'd explain it._ There on the couch, passed out in a pile of beer bottles was Vernon Dursley. Usually any _freak_ that dared to cross the threshold of the Dursley home met with a tirade from the fat man. Tonight he was far too drunk to care.

Still, shouldn't Harry have come to the door instead? Maybe he hadn't heard the knock? She tiptoed up into the living room and then up the stairs to the second floor. Listening all the while for noise or movement. It was seriously starting to freak her out just how still and quiet it was.

Eventually arriving at the door she knew belonged to Harry. Tonks frowned at the locks and cat door set into it. She seriously had her doubts as to Dumbledore's sanity if _this_ was something which could be allowed to continue unchallenged.

She flicked the locks, as quietly as she could and opened the door. The dimly lit room, was surprisingly empty. No clutter, no nothing, not even mussed sheets. The Owl peered mournfully at her from her cage. "Hey Hedwig, need out of there?" She asked quietly, the owl bobbled it's head sadly. She opened the cage door and the Owl shuffled out. "Seen Harry recently?"

The owl gave her a look. "Right, don't know how I expected you to answer that." She muttered uneasily. She'd swear he'd never been in here this summer. So where was he? She slipped out of the room again as the Owl flew out the window.

She checked every room on the top floor. They'd been ransacked. Someone had gone through the other two Dursley bedrooms and taken anything that someone might have needed and left. That they hadn't even taken the time to clean up afterwards was troubling…Petunia Dursley was downright obsessive about such things.

 _Hominum Revelio._ She considered the result from her casting…

There was an almighty clatter and she nearly jumped from her skin. There on the window sill of the bathroom was an Owl scowling at her. "Bloody hell." She approached the owl and tugged the letter clear and swore. Mafalda Hopkirk, the over eager woman in charge of persecuting under age sorcerers. She flipped it open. _Does the woman have nothing better to do than send the dogs after Harry, I've been here less than five minutes!_ She pulled her badge running her thumb over a line of runes, activating the enchantment. "Message for base. Recitation: Someone please inform Mafalda Hopkirk that there is an Auror on scene at Number 4 Privet Drive, performing magic and such, and to _pretty please_ recall notifications and warnings?" She waited until a confirmation message returned.

She looked to the owl. "There, now get out of here." The Owl glared at her sullenly before flapping off. She could swear those birds enjoyed delivering bad news.

Tonks paced back down the stairs, no longer caring if she woke Vernon. If that owl hadn't managed it, she sure as Hades wouldn't. True to prediction he was still snoring away on the couch. She tried checking that little cupboard under the stair, but it too was empty. Though she did note with more than a little disgust it had been equipped at some point to house someone.

She paced into the kitchen. Nothing. Then down into the rear living space. Yet again…nothing. She was about to turn and wake the slumbering man to demand answers when she spotted a door she had overlooked. She had one last place to check before she dealt with Vernon. The basement.

She opened the door and stepped down into the stairway. Her uneasiness was growing, and not just because she'd hate to be the one to tell Dumbledore Harry had disappeared. Something was wrong, she could feel it in her gut. And if there was one lesson she'd learned from Moody it was to always trust her instincts.

She carefully padded to the bottom of the stairs and turned right. The room stank to high heaven of bleach and various cleaning products which had been stored around the washer and dryer. The room was otherwise virtually empty except for a few stacked boxes and detritus. She turned and headed down the other hall into the other end of the basement. She kept her wand out. She hadn't yet turned on the lights for this area and it was fairly dark. Tonks' instincts were howling at her now. She turned a corner and found the last door waiting for her.

There was indeed a light under it, and she hoped she'd found her boy. She turned the knob and let the door swing open. Whatever she'd been expecting, she hadn't been prepared for what met her eyes beyond.

* * *

Andromeda Tonks, formerly a daughter of the infamous house of Black, filled out yet another sheet of parchment. She had just finished up a case with healer Stroud in spell damage and needed to make sure the records were straight on what had occurred with their latest patient. The poor woman had the misfortune of a wand misfiring when using shearing charm on one of her sheep. The sheep was dead, the woman wasn't but bits of the sheep had imbedded themselves in her leg.

Andromeda was just reflecting on the absurdity of that situation when there was a buzzing sound and she reached distractedly for the small compact mirror at her waist when she felt the vibration. She brought it up so she could look at the small pane of glass. "Healer Tonks here. How may I…" She saw a flash of pink hair and smiled slightly. "Hello dear, how are you? I'm kind busy right now, I'm just getting off my shift."

The image settled and she was taken aback as it centred on her daughter's nervous face. Her hair was kaleidoscoping through a dozen different colours, something it only did when she was very distressed. "Uh, Hey mum! I'm afraid it's a bit of an emergency, how soon till you're off?"

She checked her watch. "Five-ten minutes why?"

"Like I said, I've got an emergency here and I could use your expertise…I'd call the others but…" Her daughter explained uneasily.

"Where are you?" Andromeda asked as she filed away the parchment.

He daughter shook her head. "I can't tell you that, not over an open message like this. Do you know how to apparate to an Auror beacon?"

Andromeda nodded, worried now. Healers at St Mungo's were required as a matter of course to know how to do so in emergencies. She'd only had to do so once before. That case had been years ago, and it had involved her psychopathic sister carving her way through a crowd with cutting curses…

"Good, there will be a beacon active in Surrey. Land at the small park just up the street from it I'll walk you into the site." She frowned as the connection cut off. Something clearly had her daughter upset, and that she'd called her instead of the DMLE or the Order was troubling. She hurried through her remaining business at the hospital, clocking out and then made her way to the apparition point, a small warded area near the hospital from which she could apparate without drawing muggle attention.

She used the spell necessary to allow her to track Auror emergency beacons and then disapparated whirling away south over London. It was less than a minute later that she spotted the beacon glowing, even in the maelstrom of apparition, ahead of her. She descended towards it to find a small muggle neighbourhood, sound asleep beneath the stars. She did just as her daughter instructed and veered away to the small playground where she spotted her daughter waiting.

She rematerialized with a dull pop and hurried to meet her daughter, who to her great surprise gathered her into a desperate hug. "Dora, what's wrong?" She asked searching her daughters face.

Her daughter stepped back, and to her further shock dabbed at her eyes. "I don't know where to start mum…"

"Is it that latest boyfriend you were telling me about?" She asked.

The younger woman chuckled darkly. "He's not my boyfriend, I was just considering asking him out. Hadn't gotten around to that yet, too busy you know…" She babbled ruefully. "I'd hoped to talk to him after this shift but…"

"Honey, what is it? Just tell me." Andi said, her voice soothing.

"It's better if I show you. I would have called the others but…well it's complicated, I don't know what to do." She exclaimed.

Andromeda considered her archly. "This isn't one of those 'you need me to help you hide a body' things is it?" She asked. She was fairly certain it wasn't, but she supposed with her relative's track record…

Dora barked a slightly hysterical laugh. "Merlin I hope not. Come on…I'll explain a little on the way." She led her from the park and down the street. "I would have called the Aurors, but everyone knows we've been infiltrated after the mess at the Ministry — And until tonight I would have called the Order, but suddenly I'm not so sure about them either…"

She showed the way up to a nondescript house identical to all those around them. Andromeda stepped inside and looked around, aside from the hideous decor, and…She blinked in surprise at the fat muggle bound and gagged on the carpet rocking irately as his face purpled.

Nymphadora frowned "Yeah, I'm just going to ignore him for the moment, if I don't I think you might have to help me hide a body after all. Come on." She led the way through the house, into the basement and down the hall before stopping at the door.

Here her daughter paused. "Now, I-I've used everything in my med kit to stabilize him but he's still a mess. I was too afraid to even move him, despite his position…" Her daughter stammered, and Andromeda blinked at her in shock. So there was a patient after all, and whoever it was was in bad shape.

She nodded sternly and her daughter opened the door.

Andromeda Tonks had once had the dubious _honour_ of being treated to a horror movie by her husband Ted. To say that she had been less than enthused had been a major understatement, and had very nearly entirely put her off the idea of movies altogether. It was odd then, that she now found she was grateful that she'd been subjected to that, as now she had something with which to compare what she was seeing to.

The room had been clad in plastic sheeting, all except the ceiling which had what appeared to be a truck's tow hook secured to the rafters above. But that wasn't what had reminded her of a horror movie. No, that fell to the poor soul hanging by his wrists from the hook drenched in their own blood.

She'd seen many terrible and depraved things over the years, but usually not first hand. She'd seen victims of torture in the last war. But only after they'd been cleaned up for treatment. This person however… "Morgana." She spat as she hurried forward and checked the man for a pulse, and was relieved when she found one. She turned her attention to her daughter who looked more than a little green about the gills. "What have you given him?"

"Blood replacer, some pain draught, I wasn't sure what else I could risk." Her daughter apologized, looking lost.

"Alright, let's see." She looked the man…or perhaps boy was a better term now that she considered him. There were cuts, lacerations and bruises all over him and he was clearly unconscious. She drew her wand and started diagnostics. "Broken ribs, broken collar bone, broken femur, multiple lacerations, burns…" She shook her head. "We can get him down I think, none of the broken ribs look to threaten his organs. Let's be gentle though."

The younger woman hurried forward and dropped a chair she conjured beside her mother. Dora wrapped her arms around his waist as her mother climbed up and pulled his bound wrists off the hook. "Damn. Look at this mess." Andromeda remarked as she and her daughter lowered him gently to the ground. "Alright I'm going to see about setting some of these breaks. Have you taken photos of the crime scene?" She asked. She'd had to assist in cases before, usually with cadavers.

Dora nodded weakly. "First thing I did after stabilizing him."

"Good, now then, why don't you tell me who this is and why you're not sure to trust the Order." She requested as she started drawing her wand over the boy's torso.

Dora sniffed, trying to wipe her nose without getting blood all over herself. "Mum…I—" She hiccuped and Andromeda looked up to see her daughter had tears streaking down her face. She waved helplessly at the boy. "Mum—this is Harry Potter…"

Andi felt her jaw drop as her head whipped about to look into the boys face. "Sodding hell fire…"

"This is the boy we were supposed to protect mum….and—" Her daughter sank onto her haunches. "Mum I swear I didn't know that this was happening…"

She waved that off as she rubbed away some of the blood marring his forehead, finding just as promised, a lightning bolt scar. "I know that Dora, you'd never let this happen to someone. But how did they not…"

Dora looked at the floor, refusing to meet her eyes. "We knew this place was less than ideal mum. His relatives hate him." Andromeda looked up at her sharply. "But Dumbledore, he said not to interfere…They'd yell at him, and we had to ignore it. They'd neglect him and we were expected to do the same…" Her watery voice was warbling unsteadily. "Oh mum, I've seen his bedroom before, it's more like a prison cell. But Dumbledore said…"

Andromeda nodded, sternly. So, her daughter had made the mistake so many others had made, she'd assumed Dumbledore was just as infallible as people believed. Dora shifted forward a bit and pointed to the boy's forearm. "And then there's this." There tattooed on his forearm in black, was a message clear as day. _Do Not Trust Dumbledore!_

She nodded stiffly. Uncertain what to make of it all. "We can worry about that later Dora. For now, would you tell me what you plan to do now?"

Tonks nodded, sniffing again wrapping her arms tight around her stomach as she bounced on her toes. "I don't know mum. I mean…I can't go to the Order, not after this, not with that message in mind. I can't trust them not to put him back together and throw him back to the wolves…And as for the Aurors." She shrugged helplessly.

Andromeda nodded as she set the last bone. "Can you help me open his mouth so we can pour some bone knitter into him?" her daughter nodded and helped her do just that. "Good, good." She murmured slowly, as she settled on her own haunches and considered her daughter. "There must be someone you trust to help you…Someone from the office? Someone he knows…"

Tonks froze considering. She nodded slowly. "Amelia Bones, if anybody is clean in the Aurors it's her. After what happened to her family in the last war…" She paused considering. "As for someone he knows? I don't know, the only ones I half trust not to run to Dumbledore are his little pack of friends from the Ministry."

Her mother snorted slightly "Ah, the much lauded Ministry six. Something tells me it wouldn't be wise to bring in a pack of children just yet. No matter how skilled they may be." Andromeda noted dryly. "Amelia then, you go get her I'll stay here with the boy."

Her daughter pushed to her feet. "Oh and Dora?" She said off handedly as she returned to monitoring the boys status. "Do try and avoid kicking the muggle _too_ hard eh?" She said pointedly.

Tonks nodded stiffly and marched out.

* * *

Amelia Bones arrived in the same park as Andromeda Tonks close to half an hour later. Considering the speed at which apparition carried a person to their destination, this was entirely due to the delay caused by Auror Tonks having to contact her boss at home and allow her a chance to make arrangements for her niece.

She arrived with a small clap of sound stepping smartly forward as she rematerialized looking about in search of her subordinate. She found Auror Tonks standing a few feet away looking lost.

"Auror report, there better be a good reason you got me out of my house at this hour." She noted as touch irritably. Amelia Bones was not among the people who was happy before they'd had their morning coffee.

Tonks bobbed her head running a hand shakily through her slowly shifting hair. "Right you are ma'am. If you'll step this way please, I'll explain." The started making their way down the block. "As I-I assume you are aware ma'am I sometimes volunteer my time with the Order of the Phoenix…" She ventured uncertainly peering questioningly at her boss.

Amelia nodded her head. Her, Shack and Jones had all hinted that they might be doing such a thing at one time or another. She wasn't precisely happy with it, but she couldn't stop them from doing so, considering it was during their off duty hours and had yet to interfere with their jobs.

"A small team is assigned here each night to watch Number 4, the house where Harry Potter spends his summers." Tonks explained, earning a sharp glance from Amelia. "Our job was to watch over him and make sure he didn't run into any trouble… not like last year."

They stopped out front the house in question. "We were also ordered to avoid contact with him and the muggles if possible. Something many of us disagreed with, but in the end we all agreed to follow Dumbledore's wishes on the matter."

"Any particular reason he wanted you to avoid the boy?" Amelia asked curiously.

"He never said Ma'am. I think he was concerned about something we might see…" Tonks sighed, clearly chagrined. "The boy's home life isn't a happy one Director, his relatives quite frankly hate his feckin' guts and spend a lot of time yelling at him or making him do all the work around the house. I think Dumbledore wanted to keep us from sympathizing too much with him. Didn't want us to get it into our heads to break him out."

Amelia frowned at this, she didn't like where this was going. "Why is Dumbledore so fixated on keeping Potter here?"

"He's never really been terribly clear about that, but it was indicated that somehow, despite his relatives treatment of him, Harry was safer here than anywhere else. I've done some poking around while I was waiting ma'am and I think I've figured it out a bit." Tonks drew her wand and extended it towards the edge of the property. There was a flash as it made contact with something and she withdrew her wand quickly. "Blood wards ma'am. Keyed to Harry and his blood relatives." She grimaced.

Amelia could understand her displeasure, Blood Magic. A powerful but forbidden branch of the arcane. Blood Magic was far more powerful than the kind wielded by the average wizard, but it was also inherently unstable and dangerous. People who dabbled in Blood Magic tended to start experiencing mental instability as an added cost of wielding it. "Let me guess Dumbledore set these up?"

Tonks shrugged. "That'd be my guess ma'am, though I can't be certain. It's tied to Harry himself for additional power. As much as I hate to say it, for keeping someone like You-Know-Who out, these might work nicely…"

Amelia noted the hesitance in Tonks' demeanour, "But…"

The Auror sighed. "But he clearly failed to take something into account." She looked into her bosses eyes, and Amelia was surprised at the weariness she saw there. "His relatives."

Tonks lead the way up the steps. "We don't know what happened, but there was clearly some kind of altercation between Harry and his relatives."

She pushed open the door and led the way inside. She waved off to the side indicating a bound and very angry fat man on the floor. "The aunt and cousin scarpered yesterday, just a day after Harry returned from Hogwarts. This one stayed behind." She glared at the man.

"And Potter?" Amelia asked.

Tonks sagged. "This way ma'am." She led the way into the basement and to the door which was once again closed. "He's…well you'll see."

She pushed open the door and Amelia uttered an oath as she took in just what she was seeing. The boy was laid out on the ground still fairly covered in blood, as a woman she recognized as Tonks' mother tended him. He'd clearly been bound, though someone had severed the ties releasing him. "What in Merlin's name?"

Tonks nodded. "Near as I can tell, his uncle lost it and took it out on Harry. When I found him he was tied up and hanging from that hook by his wrists. There is extensive evidence of what is in effect torture."

"Why didn't you report this immediately!" her boss demanded.

"Ma'am you know as well as I do, our department is infiltrated, I had no idea who we could trust, and I wasn't about to call Dumbledore…" She shrugged helplessly. "I called mum because it was clear Harry needed medical assistance, and then I called you. I figured if anyone in the corps. can be trusted it's you."

Amelia considered that, under the circumstances Tonks very well may have made the right decision, it didn't make it very palatable though. "Mr Potter's status?"

Here Andromeda finally spoke up. "Stable, for now. Normally I would recommend sending him to Saint Mungo's but clearly we don't know if he'll be safe there…I would like to move him out of here though. I could go get what medical supplies I can scrounge up and meet you wherever you take him?" She suggested.

"What was done to him first, I want to know what I need to ask when I have a word with that muggle." Amelia requested.

Andromeda rubbed her eyes. "What wasn't done to him? None of it is magical in nature but that doesn't mean the damage is any less severe." She waved at the scattered detritus around the room. "There's a hammer over there, there's signs it was used to break bones, including most of the ones in his left hand. Lots of marks from a lash of some sort… He's been beaten, probably with fists. Burns of some sort, knife wounds….I have no idea what that is." She noted sourly nodding to a small black box sitting on the ground in the corner. It had some hoses or cables wrapped around it.

The woman's daughter looked ill, "I know what it is, Dad showed me how to change out a car battery when I was younger…"

The other's looked at her questioningly. "It's essentially a box full of lightning that's used to provide power to move a car. Those cables are used to channel it into a system, in this case into Harry. Judging by the fact Harry's still breathing I'd guess that bastard didn't use it for long periods at a time. Electricity can stop a person's heart."

"Madness," Andromeda growled manipulating one of the boy's shoulders. "Pure madness."

Amelia nodded agreement feeling sick to her stomach. "I agree with Andromeda, we need to move him out of here. You took pictures of the crime scene?" She asked her Auror.

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, ideas on where to put him?" She asked as a follow up.

The others peered at each other uncertainly. Eventually Tonks had a suggestion. "I have a safe house set up for myself ma'am, per regulation it's not even in the records and I haven't mentioned it to the Order…"

Amelia nodded. "That would do nicely. Tell me where to meet you and I'll join you there once I'm done with his uncle."

"I'll also need to know where to go honey." Andromeda noted gently.

Tonks gave them an address and told them how to approach without drawing attention or setting off the wards. "We should be out of here soon as possible ma'am. It'll only be a couple more hours before the shift change. I should be here to pass the torch…"

The director nodded. "Very well, the longer this stays secret the better. I agree we can't trust Dumbledore too far right now, and we don't want the news or the bloody Death Eaters getting word of this."

Andromeda and Tonks worked on conjuring a stretcher and shifted the still unconscious boy onto it. "Any idea why he's still out?" Tonks asked her mother.

A grim nod in return. "It's probably a number of things. His body has taken a severe beating, it's likely his mind is focused on repairing the damage over being awake. In addition this kind of trauma will often cause a persons mind to retreat in order to protect itself from the horror. I think we can bring him around, though it'd probably be best if we weren't here when we did it."

"Alright let's move him out people." The Director instructed. "I've a fat man to see about some questions I have. And he'd better have some answers."

* * *

Tonks and Andromeda side along apparated Harry, still on his stretcher, to Tonks' safe house. They appeared on the small balcony of the apartment which served as the sole access point. Tonks had sealed the "Door" of the apartment when she'd moved in and covered it over with all manner of wards. The balcony itself was protected in a similar fashion, that would however still allow her to apparate in without being noticed by her neighbours. It wasn't a fidelius, but it was the next best thing. It had taken her weeks to do the work necessary to get it set up.

Tonks pulled open the sliding glass doors after deactivating the wards over it and led the way inside. They lowered Harry to the floor long enough for her to reactivate the defences behind her before moving through the small apartments living room to the bedroom just off of it.

They shifted Harry onto the bed and checked him over, ensuring that he'd come through the trip alright. The apparition had reopened some of his cuts but otherwise he was no worse than before. Andromeda set about him for a minute before getting to her feet. "I need my field kit from home and some potions. You'd better stay here to meet Amelia. You mind letting me out?"

Tonks nodded and led the way back out of the bedroom, but her mother stopped her before they reached the patio. "It'll be alright Dora. He's going to make it, you didn't know this was being done to him." She offered, trying to console her daughter.

"But I might have if I had ignored Dumbledore. If I'd done what I knew was right instead of listening to that old fool." Her daughter murmured sadly. She'd cried herself out a while ago, but that didn't mean the guilt wasn't still eating at her.

"You made the same mistake countless others have made. The difference is that you have done your best to make up for it. Now, no more of that alright? Watch over him, and keep an eye out for trouble. I'll be back soon as I can." Her mother cupped her cheek briefly before stalking out onto the deck and disapparating.

Tonks returned to the bedroom, pulling up a chair beside Harry on the bed. "Sorry about all this kiddo."

It was close to half an hour later before Amelia arrived. Getting her attention by knocking on the glass doors to the patio, Tonks allowed the woman inside, only to be startled when Andromeda popped into existence just as she was preparing to close the door. She waited until her mother had hustled inside before closing and sealing the entry again behind them.

Her mother didn't pause to talk instead hurrying with her shrunk down rucksack into the bedroom. Amelia turned to Tonks. "I questioned the Uncle." She explained soberly, at her subordinates questioning look.

"What did he have to say?" Dora asked, almost dreading the answer.

"About what we should have expected. You weren't kidding, they really hated the boy. Never wanted him in the first place, but Dumbledore didn't give them a choice. A recipe for disaster right there. Apparently this resentment has been stewing between them for a while." Her boss explained pacing. "You got anything to drink around here? I need one after talking with that _beast_."

Tonks nodded and grabbed some fire whiskey she had stashed away and poured her boss a tumbler. Her superior saluted her before tossing it back. "Alright, so I figured out where it all went wrong. Seems you Order types put some pressure on them when they picked him up from the train?" Tonks nodded, a sinking feeling in her gut, she'd been one of those to give the warning. Amelia bobbed her head setting down the small glass.

"Well near as I can tell Vernon has been chafing under all this for some time, you people threatening him was the final straw. He's snapped, he's completely unhinged now. Was only too happy to describe all the things he did to try and beat the magic out of the boy back in the day. And was even happier to tell me what he did to teach us _freaks_ a lesson. Nobody messes with Vernon Dursley apparently." She remarked acidly.

Amelia grimaced and shook her head before continuing. "The wife and kid left when they realized what he was up to, probably fearing Dumbledore's response if I were to guess."

"I—I know this kind of stuff happens occasionally, abuse I mean, but I just can't imagine doing something like this to family…" Dora murmured tiredly.

"Like I said, he's snapped. He's not sane any longer. Even the worst abusers will usually stop short of this kind of madness. He's too far gone to see the limits anymore." Amelia explained grimacing.

Tonks' voice had gone rough. "So it's our fault isn't it? Pushing him like that? He told us we never should have tried that with his Uncle. We didn't listen." She sniffed and wiped at some tears that were beginning to fall.

Amelia couldn't entirely deny that. "Maybe, maybe not. You can't account for everything, and this certainly wasn't your intent. Add to that, that he's apparently gone insane and it was only a matter of time really."

Tonks didn't appear comforted, but Andromeda stepped out of the bedroom interrupting whatever might have been said next. "He is as stable as I can make him, and he's healing. I'm going to let him rest for a few hours before we see about waking him."

Nymphadora nodded absently. "I'd better get a shower and head back to Privet Drive. My replacement will arrive in a couple hours. Don't want them knowing I got him out of there or we'll never have any peace." She stalked to the door, and paused to adjust the wards. "You two can come and go as you please. Send me a message if you need me?" She didn't wait for a reply before apparating away.

Amelia turned to consider Andromeda. "She's going to be taking this hard. You know her better than I, think I should give her a bit of compassionate leave?"

The other woman snorted. "I'm not so sure about your assertion that I know her better than you. She barely visits anymore, and when she was living with us we didn't get along so well. Only reason she came to me is because it was an emergency. But…no, don't put her on leave. Time to sit around and think about things will only hurt her worse knowing Dora. She needs to be up and doing otherwise she goes stir crazy."

Amelia nodded. "I think I'll speak with her about helping me out with a couple things then. Maybe get and idea what is really going on inside the Order."

"Good idea, damn Albus anyways. This is exactly the sort of disaster that I worry about with him in charge of that school." Andromeda growled in disgust.

"If I had my druthers Albus would have never become Headmaster, but ultimately the decision lay with the board and his predecessor." Amelia said tiredly.

Andi nodded understanding. "Poor lad," She sighed then waved indicating the bedroom door. "He never deserved this, brave sort who just tries to help others from what I hear, and his own bloody relatives do this to him."

"Brave is putting it mildly if half the stories I hear are true." Amelia agreed. "Problem is that I can't confirm any of them. Dumbledore's too good at covering up his messes, or Harry'd have an Order of Merlin coming his way for a few of them."

"Oh?" The other woman asked curiously.

"Murderous teachers, an ancient evil of some kind stalking the school, dementors, that damn tournament, what happened at the Ministry…" She sighed and hiked up her coat on her shoulders. "Well I'd better head into the office and see about some things. Get the Muggle police to take care of Dursley and prepare the way should anyone get word of what's going on. I'll check in with you tomorrow some time."

She strode to the door. "Let me know if anything happens." She instructed, getting a nod from the other woman, before she too disapparated.

* * *

It was a relatively short time later that Chief Inspector Samantha Grimes of the London Metropolitan Police Department, found herself loitering in a small park near South Kensington. Hyde park itself, which dominated that region of London, was reasonably safe considering the patrols that regularly frequented it, but it was also a lot more busy than this little patch of green in the otherwise unbroken urban sprawl. She nodded to a pair of Constables who wandered by as she set herself down on a bench.

Typically this hour of the morning was a bit early even for her to be up. However she'd received a message from an…acquaintance, which had gotten her out of bed despite the ungodly hour of the morning.

She only had to wait a short while before there was a hushed pop behind her and another woman sat herself on the bench beside her. An aging red head in a reddish brown long coat. "Been some time Samantha, thank you for coming on such short notice."

Sam snorted indelicately. "Couldn't see falling back asleep after you paged me. Have I ever mentioned that alarm you installed on the thing is really obnoxious?" a soft chuckle was the response. "So, Amy, can I call you Amy? What has got your knickers in such a twist on your side of the line that you needed to get me up at this hour of the morning?"

Amelia smiled thinly, despite her tone Samantha Grimes and her were on relatively good terms. "Correct me if I'm wrong but Little Whinging in Surrey falls under your jurisdiction."*

Sam nodded. "Sure, just please tell me a Dragon isn't rampaging through a Surrey Suburb?" She pleaded with a groan. "I just about had kittens when I heard you were bringing some of the ruddy things into the country a couple years back."

"Nothing like that, I'm afraid we had a bit of a cross lines incident last night. Someone who is aware of our world got a bit violent with one of our citizens. We're working to get it sorted out on our end, but we need you to have one of your boys and girls stop by Number 4 Privet Drive and pick up a package we left there for you. I recommend whomever you send check out the basement thoroughly."

The Inspector nodded soberly, before pulling a cigarette from the silver holder her husband had given her years ago and lighting up. "You want one?" She asked proffering the case to Amelia.

The Witch shook her head, it had been a hell of a shock when Sam had been contacted by Amy's people. Learning that not only was magic real, but witches and wizards walked among them had been unbelievable to put it mildly. "You want to tell me what my boys will find?"

Amelia shrugged, "A young Wizard's uncle lost it when we put a little pressure on him to treat his adoptive ward better. Speaking quite frankly he's gone insane and he tortured the boy extensively. The man in question has been secured and the scene is largely undisturbed aside from the boy in question being stabilized and removed.

Sam made a face at that. "I wish you'd let us find the scene before moving him, it'll be harder on the evidence gathering side."

Amelia nodded understanding. "Didn't really have a choice considering. But I'll keep it in mind should something like this happen again. Shouldn't be a problem this time though. Bastard is only too happy to talk about what he's done. Just ignore his gibbering about our side of the line would you?"

"You got it, besides they'd think I was a nutter if I mentioned it." Sam noted dryly. "Got some other questions for you if you've got a moment."

Amelia nodded. "I presume this has to do with some of the odd happenings around."

"You got it. Care to explain?"

Amelia sighed. "I take it from your tone your minister is as good about passing along intel as mine is."

"You guys speak with the PM?" Sam asked surprised.

"Yes we do. Although I suppose it's possible that arse Fudge hasn't actually bothered to tell your boss anything yet." Her counterpart muttered then nodded as she considered where to start. "We've got ourselves something of a…terrorist problem, on our side of the line. Bunch of radicals calling themselves Death Eaters have been trying to take over for a while. We thought we'd had them beaten for the most part but they recently had something of a resurgence."

Sam swore around her cigarette. Terrorists seemed to be the bane of any civilization nowadays. "And all this weirdness is their doing is it?"

"Oh some of it is doubtless hooligans and such. But we can mostly handle that. But that incident with the bridge and the _tornado_ in the west country was their side alright." Amelia agreed. "When they're not murdering us these psychos get their jollies 'muggle hunting' as they call it." She noted with a sour expression.

"How much longer can you guys keep this all a secret should they keep this up?" Sam asked soberly.

Amelia sighed explosively, "I honestly don't know, we're doing our best, but its an ever worsening prospect as time goes by. Those bloody cameras everyone carries now are a serious thorn in our side. We've had to invest a good portion of the last couple budgets figuring out new spells that stop them from recording our messes…" Amelia noted. It was something of a sore spot for her as that little ding to the budget had traditionally been taken out on her department.

"You guys can handle it though right? I won't have to send my boys after your troublemakers will I?" Sam demanded. She knew just how dangerous the other Britain could be when roused.

Amelia grimaced and shook her head. "Merlin I hope not. I'm doing everything I can Sam, but I'm half crippled by all the political BS that's going on lately."

"Fine. I'll dispatch some boy first thing in the morning." Sam agreed dumping the now finished cigarette on the ground and stamping on it before throwing it away. "Just keep these disasters to a minimum would you Amy? I've got enough problems without exploding bridges and Giants stamping through villages."

Amelia blinked in surprise. "I never mentioned it was Giants."

"You missed a camera, it was an almighty mess to clean up. Remind your people the white poles with all the boxes on top are cameras too would you?" She asked getting to her feet.

Amelia nodded hurriedly. Then swore under her breath. "We really can't stay a secret much longer at this rate can we?"

"Not alone I think." Sam agreed. "We might be able to help more if you talked to us on occasion." She noted dryly.

"I'll remember that. I'll see if I can get the Minister to shift on his position. If not him then maybe his replacement will see reason." Amelia noted.

"Good, I'll go see about that problem you mentioned. You get yourself some sleep you look like crap Amy." The inspector noted dryly as she paced off.

Amelia for her part remained in her seat for a while, shaking her head. It was true what they'd said. The secret couldn't last much longer like this. Not in today's world. And with mad men like You-Know-Who and his ilk running about…

She shivered, and it definitely wasn't from the cold morning air. The consequences of their world going public…well they couldn't be good.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

*I do not know if Little Whinging is in fact under London Metro jurisdiction or not in our world or even in JKRs. But it is in this one.

**In case it wasn't clear Samantha Grimes is a coded reference to Samuel Vimes from the Disc World metropolis of Ankh Morpork.

So, yeah, this is the last Plot Bunny for a while. I'm sure more will be coming along soon enough knowing me. As ever, please review and comment. And thank you everyone for their interest.


	6. Psychotherapy Bunny

**Author's Note:** I found this plot bunny and one other in some folders I'd overlooked. Would have posted this earlier, but fan fiction has been on the fritz today. Hope you enjoy it. This idea is based off of the story 'The Perils of Innocence'.

* * *

July 31st 2007

It was funny, the way she sometimes found herself grateful for the way the sounds of rain could wash away the thoughts plaguing her mind. Keira Smythe had been working long hours for a series of long weeks, over the course of a number of long months, for a long year. She was tired, her mind caught up in nothing so much as her worries and insecurities.

She'd finally passed her nursing course at the local college some months ago, but seemed little better off for all that expended effort. Stuck as she had been in a series of dead-end jobs. She had her bachelors, as required to begin working for a hospital or major care facility, but as was common in these times, such places were feeling the pinch of the latest budget cutback, and therefore would not be hiring in the near future.

The current place she found herself employed by wasn't so bad she supposed, even if she wasn't paid that much more than her starting salary at the moment, not being assigned as a primary care giver up on the wards as she was. The management were kind, and unlike at the long-term care facility she had worked at previously, the patients were not prone to dying off in droves due to advanced age and progressing illnesses either..

Still, it was hardly the role she'd seen herself in when she'd first left secondary school.

Bills to pay and a mouth to feed. That was the worst of her problems, the student loans being the most pressing, but rent was up there as well. Housing being as expensive as it was in the greater London Area. Even her small, one bedroom apartment was almost more than she could afford after paying down the cost of her loans. Add to that the price of heating, electricity and her phone bill and she was fortunate to have enough for food on the table most nights.

The rain was a nice reprieve though, the constant low, rolling rumble of it beating against the windows and roof blotting out her worries as she merely concerned herself with helping the janitors mop up the water which had washed into the lobby thanks to the downpour.

Normally this task would have irked her somewhat, she was a nurse for goodness sake, not a janitor! However today it was better than the alternative, sitting in the nurse's station twiddling her thumbs and dwelling on her problems, or delivering the latest batch of meds to the 5th ward, as was her primary duty as the least experienced worker in the bunch assigned to that floor.

If asked, she'd likely be hard pressed to tell you which was worse. The 5th ward, here in Witley Psychiatric Care Centre, a converted regency or victorian era manor in Surrey, was reserved for the patients suffering the worst illnesses they handled at the facility. Those with advancing dementia, Alzheimer's and other disorders of that severity. It always made her sad dealing with people in that condition. Confused, afraid, lost and angry. That was no way to live.

And so it was, as she mopped quietly in the main lobby, drowning out the world with the sound of the rain and metronomic motion of the mop in her hands that she happened to glance up.

There, working its way along the drive up towards the front of the building was a car. A little off white economy job, that soon pulled up to the curb in the pouring rain. She recognized most of the cars which frequented the Centre. Most belonging to the staff, the families of patients or to contractors delivering food and supplies to them. This was not one of those she knew off hand.

The car sat there for a good five minutes, the wipers waving lazily back and forth across the windshield in near silence for a time before the door cracked open and deposited a small lad out onto the pavement before closing as the car pulled away. The child standing there in the rain, watching it go for a minute before turning to shuffle towards the door.

Perhaps it was the unceremonious way he'd been let out of the car, or the bedraggled appearance of the boy in question, soaked to the bone as he was. But Keira felt a pang of sympathy for the little boy and ceased her labours in order to meet him at the door and hold it open for him.

He was small, she realized as he shuffled his way inside shivering. Small and skinny, with jet black hair and wide green eyes. All in all it just added to his waif-like appearance and she felt that pang again in her heart, guiding him gently off to the side. "Hello there, just waiting for your parents to park the car? Are you here to visit a patient?" She asked kindly. Silently wondering at the kind of parents who would leave such a young boy at the curb, even for just short while, in this weather, in a strange place.

He shrugged, looking down, and shook his head still shivering. Keira frowned, clearly the boy wasn't used to interacting with strangers. Worrisome. "They're not parking the car? Or you're not here to see a patient?" She asked, crouching to squat beside him, her eyes just about level with his now.

He seemed uneasy, wringing his hands before shrugging his ratty little backpack off his shoulders and into his arms where he held it tight against his chest. "Neither—or, both I guess…I'm here to check in…That's what she said to tell you when you asked what I was doing here."

Keira blinked in surprise. They'd rarely had children as patients here up to this point, the wing set aside for them being newly finished. This lad hardly seemed the type to be needing a stay with them either. Shy certainly, and most definitely not as wild as the others often were when brought here. She was about to question him about that claim, when he unzipped the little pack and pulled out a sheet held in a small protector before handing it over. "She said I was to give you that, and that you'd be taking care of me now…"

She stared at the sheet he held out to her before carefully taking it from him and looking at it more closely. It was a standard inductions form for the facility. Still she stared disbelievingly at, almost not seeing it, before looking to the lad who was shifting nervously before her. "Taking care of you?" She stammered, shocked.

He looked forlorn. "I know, I'm sorry. It's okay if you don't really want me. Nobody does. But—She said I had to go. They didn't want me any more."

Keira felt her jaw drop open, appalled by what she'd just heard. Someone had just _abandoned_ this child with them. Not even bothering to see to the paperwork themselves. "I—Why…No. I—" She paused to collect herself, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, you just startled me. Can you tell me your name, maybe we can clear things up a bit?"

He looked lost, before shaking his head weakly. "She told me I was Harry now."

She felt her eyebrows climb even higher. "Now?"

He nodded, "Never been called that except at school," He admitted uncertainly. "Usually they called me Freak, o-or Boy if they weren't angry…"

Keira flinched in response to the bald honesty in the boy's voice as he admitted to that astounding level of cruelty which had been directed at him. "I—Okay, Harry. Just give me a minute to look over this paper, then we'll take you to see doctor Fairbanks." She said, summoning up a gentle smile to comfort the boy.

She lifted the sheet again to stare at it. Skimming it for information, some clue as to what was going on here. The sheet didn't have much. In fact it was missing key information such as a social security number or any contact information for his previous 'accommodations'. And she'd eat her hat if the person who'd dumped him off at the curb was really called 'Fanny Adams'.

Worse was the brief blurb in the section about reasons for being signed into their facility. "Being a Freak, who we don't want in our home." Was all that was written there. The only useful bits of information were his name and age, on the first line provided. Harry Potter, age Seven.

She sighed and looked the boy in his eyes noting the little bit of tape holding his cheap pair of glasses together and the slightly bruised look around sad the green orbs. "Okay Harry, I'm Keira and I'm a nurse here. Why don't we just take you to see the Doctor and we'll see about getting you taken care of. Are you hungry? We could stop by and grab something to eat at the cafeteria before heading up…"

His eyes widened comically before he shook his head hurriedly, looking panicked. "No—I, I don't want to be a bother. Not supposed to take too much."

She had to fight to keep the gentle smile in place. That certainly explained how skinny he was, and possibly why his clothes seemed so loose even then. "It's okay Harry, we have lots of food. Besides I offered didn't I?"

He paused considering that, his hands wringing the little strap on his pack for a minute before he nodded slightly. "Okay, let's get you some food then. Come along, I hear they had cookies today."

The boy's eyes widened again before he nodded jerkily and hesitantly took her hand when he was offered it. Carefully toddling along beside her as they headed deeper into the building.

They made it as far as the front desk before being stopped. Stan, their security guard that day, stepping out from behind it when he noticed her approach. "Everything alright miss Smythe? Lad get lost did he?" The man asked, eyeing the boy in question.

"No Stan, his—they, decided to leave him with us it seems. We're just off to go see Doctor Fairbanks aren't we Harry?" She said looking the boy in question before giving Stan a significant look.

Harry nodded slightly, missing the momentary widening of the guard's eyes before Stan schooled himself and smiled. Apparently he'd got the message just fine. "Ah, going to get a cookie I wager. If you want I can call up to the Doc and get him to meet you in the cafeteria? Lad looks hungry enough to eat a horse!" He said cheerfully and Keira smiled in gratitude.

"That'd be great if you could do that Stan. If he can't come down, let him know we'll be up in short order." She fired over her shoulder as she led the apparently dazed little boy off in the direction of some food.

* * *

In the end Doctor Fairbanks, the director of the facility had indeed come to meet them. An experienced Psychiatrist and medical practitioner of about forty five Steven Fairbanks had taken one look at Harry and had asked Keira to bring him along to the examination room.

Once there they had done a quick medical exam on Harry, ostensibly to check he was healthy and get him into some new clothes. What they'd seen then had them calling for the metro police.

What had followed was several hours in which the staff had kept little Harry company while various investigators asked questions of him and Keira. Neither able, or in Harry's case _willing_ , to answer anything substantial about his previous 'care' givers. Keira came to believe he was afraid of being forced back to his awful relatives. After that ordeal, they'd settled him for the night in one of the Nurse's Lounges as they waited for the staff in the children's wing to get a room picked out, cleaned up and ready for him.

Keira had just finished tucking the lad in on the couch in the Nurse's lounge when she once again met with Doctor Fairbanks. "He going to be able to sleep do you think?" He asked her quietly as she closed the door behind her. "Wouldn't blame him if he couldn't. Must have seen a lot that boy. Had quite a day too, no matter which way you cut it." He grumbled, raking a hand back through greying brown hair.

She winced thinking of what she'd seen thus far that day. "I don't know. I think it hasn't really sunk in for him that even if they can find them, he won't be going back to his relatives."

He grimaced and nodded. "I've applied to have him housed here with us for the time being. The paper work may have been irregular but it was enough to give us precedence, and besides he's likely to need our help anyways after all he's been through. Don't know what kind of bastards could do that to a kid." He muttered.

He glanced down briefly before stilling, "Nurse, did you per chance leave a nightlight on for him? Perhaps one that flickers a bit?" He asked, tensely and she looked down too.

There playing under the door was a soft yellowish light, flickering slightly about their feet. Especially as she most certain _hadn't_ set up a night light for the lad, a flickering yellow light was bad. Flickering typically indicated flame. Which was naturally the exact last thing you wanted in a hospital. Psychiatric or medical, it didn't matter.

They quickly pushed open the door, only to halt in surprise at what they saw. There, huddled back against the corner of the couch, was Harry. Staring terrified at the little glowing light which floated, quite without any support in the air before him. They and he stared at it for a moment before it flickered out and he turned a pair of fearful eyes on them and spoke. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to I promise!" He blurted. "I just don't like the dark…"

* * *

Sept 1st 2010

Harry was sitting in his favourite place on the couch in the children's ward Nurse's Lounge, reading. He came here because it was quiet and the other children in the building were not allowed to follow him here. He was different, they all knew it, though only a few others in the building were actually aware just how _different_ he was.

Since that first night here, only one other adult had been made aware of the particulars of Harry's…peculiarity. That being doctor Carmichael the resident medical physician.

Oh the others definitely knew things weren't quite normal with him. Things happened around him, and Harry wasn't technically a patient like the rest despite calling Witley his home. The others had all long since learned to leave Harry be. It wasn't that they disliked him, so much as that he made them nervous on some level.

It was hard sometimes, being so isolated from his peers. But necessary too. Harry had understood the reasoning behind his own part in his isolation well enough when they'd explained it to him.

He was 'gifted' as Keira insisted on referring to it. But that made him something unique and desirable, something others, even those who would normally be trustworthy would desire to possess for themselves. The government for example would likely desire to test him, to figure out what made him special. This was something neither he, nor the Doctors and Nurses who cared for him, wanted to happen.

Today, Harry had sought solitude because, quite frankly he just found the other children too noisy for the most part. Too prone to excitement and random outbursts of wild energy. He could see the appeal of it at times, but he knew that to indulge in that same wildness to join with them in their revelry and daily activities could easily lead to more 'outbursts'.

He was also trying to ignore the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that something important was about to happen. He hated when this happened. It wasn't often, and nothing so clear as to make any sort of prediction about what was to occur, but it did happened every so often. He'd get a feeling and something would happen, half the time because that sense of foreboding anticipation had put him and his emotions on edge.

Thus, when the door cracked open and a very worried Keira stepped inside closing the door behind her, he fought down a sigh. Judging by her expression alone, whatever it was had occurred and now somehow involved him.

"Hey buddy," She said hunkering down next to the couch. "Can I talk to you?"

He forced a small smile onto his lips, "Aren't you already doing that?" He drawled effecting the dry humour of doctor Carmichael.

She rolled her eyes and smiled slightly in return, though it was short lived. "Well yes, smart arse, I am." She conceded. "But you knew perfectly well that's not the point."

Harry nodded, "Sure I do, so why don't you tell me what happened?"

She shot him a look before understanding flared briefly in her eyes. She knew about the 'feelings' he got now and then. Thus she accepted the statement that he'd been expecting something without further question. "It's nothing you did kiddo, so don't worry about that. Just had a bit of an…'incident' downstairs today. A problem with a new kid, one I think you might be able to help with."

His eyebrows went up at that assertion. "Help with how?"

She paused, chewing her lip in thought before her mouth quirked up in the rough facsimile of a smile. "A girl came in, just a year older than you actually. She didn't want to be here, that much was obvious immediately. She begged her parents not to bring her here, not to leave her with us."

Harry winced, that did sound familiar, after a fashion. Considering his own experience with being dropped off here. Keira plowed onward, not waiting for comment. "As the meeting with Doctor Fairbanks went on she became more and more agitated, alternating between weeping, apologizing and begging her parents to not leave her here. It was when her parents actually signed the paperwork that it rather came off the rails though…" Keira said tiredly before smiling a bit sadly, looking at him sympathetically.

"Harry, she's like you—we think. When they signed the paper, it immediately caught fire and when her parents tried to explain to her why this had to happen the room tore itself apart around them." She explained.

Harry had felt his heart slowly beginning to pick up the pace throughout the tale, it was now all but pounding in his chest and ears. "Like me…" He whispered.

"Yes, now. We've got the parents calming down in a guest room, but the girl could use some more reassurance. We've helped you a bit right?" She asked, drawing a quick nod from him. It was true after all, if mostly in the area of keeping some level of emotional control. "We just want to help her too. Her parents love her, it's easy to see, but they have no idea how to go about helping her with what is happening. We'd thought…perhaps we could introduce you two and you could show her she's not alone, maybe make her feel better about being here?" She suggested.

Harry thought about that, before nodding stiffly. "I—yeah, I could try to help. Where is she? What's her name?"

Keira smiled, patting him on the knee supportively. "She's in Doctor Fairbank's waiting room, and her name is Hermione Granger."

* * *

The little girl known as Hermione Granger sat huddled in on herself in the Doctor's waiting room, clutching her stuffed dog 'Sir Woofington the Third' to her chest as she wept. This was a nightmare, she felt. Being here like this, her parents all but abandoning her and her 'issue' on display for those here to see and gawk at.

She didn't know what to do though, her parents no longer had any idea either. They'd said these people would know how to help her, but she couldn't see how that could be true. She'd never heard of anything like this outside of the most fanciful stories she'd read. Unprecedented, not many children her age knew that word, but she did and she even understood what it meant. That was what her situation was, unprecedented.

This of course did nothing to improve her situation, there were no greater sources of wisdom for her to explore, no archives of knowledge she could pour over for an answer, no wise authority figures for her to consult. So, in this moment she felt horribly and absolutely alone.

Still, when there was a knock at the door, she had the presence of mind to scrub her face of her tears and to try and sit up straight before she called out. "Yes?"

"Hermione dear, would it be okay if I came in, it's nurse Smythe and I have someone you should meet." A feminine voice she recognized replied.

In all honesty she just wanted to be alone, but she decided that it was unlikely they would allow her to sit and wallow in here forever. "O-okay, you can come in."

The door cracked open and the Nurse peeked in before pushing it wider and allowing herself and the 'guest' inside before closing the door behind them.

The Nurse was a nice looking young woman of perhaps twenty three or twenty four, with dark hair and kind eyes. It was however the other person whom she'd brought with her that held Hermione's attention.

He was small, though not much more so than herself, thin though not unduly so and had black hair. Two features in particular stuck out to her. First and foremost were the most gorgeous pair of bright green eyes which stared at her from behind a pair of plain but sturdy glasses. The second was the lightning-like tree branch patterned scar which peeked out across his forehead from under the fringe of his hair.

"Hello," he ventured, waving nervously at her, causing her to give a start as she realized she'd been staring and in turn causing her to blush.

"Hi," She offered sheepishly, before looking to the Nurse for guidance. Why had the Nurse brought another child in? Surely after that…spectacle in the Doctor's Office they didn't think it safe for her to be around others, let alone another child?

"Hello Miss Granger," The Nurse greeted, "Are you feeling any better yet?"

She shook her head shamefacedly. "Not really, no,"

Nurse Keira smiled sadly at her, "Understandable, but I think my friend here can help. His name is Harry," She began. "And he is the reason we think we can help you with your little 'issue"

Hermione, fought to keep the confusion and scepticism, but it was hard. Perhaps the Nurse sensed this because she smiled knowingly before settling into a crouch in front of her. "I'm betting you feel pretty…alone right now right? Like no one can understand you or what's going on?"

She reluctantly nodded agreement, unsure of where they were going with this.

"Well, what if I told you, that you are _not_ actually the first person we've met who can do the things you do?" The Nurse asked. "What if I told you Harry here has the same 'issue' that you do?"

Hermione blinked in shock before looking to him and then back at the Nurse. Something which felt like a delicate form of hope flickering into life in her chest. "I—Really? You—You're not joking with me are you?"

The Nurse smiled sympathetically before shaking her head. "I kid you not." Keira then looked to Harry and nodded. "Harry, would you like to show her your little parlour trick?"

Hermione wasn't sure what she expected then, from the young boy. A cheap magicians trick, an illusion or slight of hand? So she was justifiably shocked when he simply held out a hand and a small orb of swirling light flickered into being above his palm, eliciting a gasp from her. "But—but how?" She whispered.

"Harry is special, just like you." Keira said, drawing her eyes to her own as the light flickered out a few moments later. "It took years to train him to do that on demand, but with learning how to do that we learned how to control the little 'outbursts' he sometime had when he first came to us."

Hermione's eyes only flicked briefly to the nurse, instead staying fixed on Harry's own green orbs. "I—can you teach me how to do that?" She whispered. "I just—I just want to be safe. I don't want to scare my parents anymore and I—"

Keira caught her attention, cutting her off. "I'm sure we can figure it out. Your parents don't know about Harry in specific, but we've told them we have 'experience' with children who can do what you do." Seeing her thoughtful expression the nurse smiled. "Why don't I leave you two to talk for a bit, maybe Harry can tell you about himself and answer some questions?"

At their consenting nods, the nurse stood and upon double checking they'd be okay with her leaving to check in with the Doctor and her parents, she left.

Her and Harry simply stared at each other for a minute before they worked up the courage to speak, accidentally talking over each other in their haste. "I don't mean to—"

"I guess we should—"

They bother trailed off looking embarrassed, but it was Harry who regained himself first and he waved for her to go first. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to speak over you…" She muttered, "I just wanted to ask how you did that."

He smiled wanly at her, "It's hard to describe, until you've learned to self analyze like they'll be teaching us. But I basically know what it feels like when I have an 'incident' now, and can call on that feeling at need to do a few little things like that."

She nodded, she supposed that made sense. Then flushed slightly remembering part of what she was supposed to do was get to know him. "So, you're name is Harry?"

He nodded, "Harry Potter." He agreed. "Keira told me your last name is Granger?"

She bobbed her head hurriedly. "Yes, it is, Hermione Granger. I—I'm sorry I just have so many questions. I just didn't know what was happening, and now here you are, someone like me and I—" She stopped scrunching up her face at her babbling. "Sorry…"

He didn't seem to mind, instead moving to sit on the couch beside her. "It's alright, I know what you mean. Until a few minutes ago, I was the only one I knew of like me too."

Hermione felt a small swell of relief in her chest at his understanding and smiled slightly at him. "Thanks…"

They were quiet a while longer before she dared to ask another question, "If you don't mind me asking, how did you find out you were well…different?"

He paused, scowling briefly before his face smoothed out. "I think I've always known I was different in one way or another, _my relatives made sure of that._ " That last part was muttered under his breath. "But, the first time I can recall doing something so…different, was when I called a ball to me from across the room."

She nodded hurriedly. "It was a book I wanted from the top shelf in my case…" It was only then she realized she'd failed to ask the all important question. "I—Do you like to read?" She braced, ready for disappointment or rejection as she so commonly received from other children her age.

Thus it was a relief when he nodded firmly. "I like reading, it's quiet and I can think in peace while I do it."

Hermione was cautiously optimistic thanks to his response. "What are you reading now?" She asked.

"The Hobbit," He said quickly, surprising her. "It's a bit wordy, but I like the story a lot."

She threw up her hands excitedly. "I know, I love it too. Read it last year. Is it weird that I like the Dwarves a lot?"

He chuckled shaking his head. "I like them too so far,"

They gabbed on about books for a time before they came back to business, though Hermione was deeply relieved that the child who apparently had powers like hers shared a common interest with her. "You…you said something about your relatives making sure you knew you were different?"

Harry sighed, drawing a hand back roughly through his hair. "My aunt and uncle, that's who I was living with before I came here. They…were not nice people, Hermione. They knew I was different, and I suspect they knew why, but I never found out for sure. They dumped me off here and left without leaving a way to find them. Technically speaking I'm Keira's ward now, but I just live here so they can keep me safe."

Hermione blanched slightly in response to that. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pried."

He waved that off. "It's alright, I don't like to talk about them, but in all honesty them bringing me here was probably the best thing they could have done for me. The Doctors and Keira might not understand exactly how I do what I do, but they care about me. Which is more than my relatives ever did."

She nodded cautiously in understanding. "I think I'm lucky then…I'm pretty sure my parents still love me, but I don't think they know what to do with me anymore."

Harry inclined his head in understanding, before pausing, frowning in thought. "If you don't mind me asking, I assume something happened that made them bring you here?"

Hermione nodded, sagging in her seat. "Mum tried to force me to go outside when I really didn't want to, she said I needed to get some sun and meet kids my age. I don't know how but I threw her out of my room and slammed the door in her face without lifting a finger." She murmured in remembrance, before looking to him. "You?"

Harry grimaced. "I teleported."

That certainly caused her to blink. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting but it certainly hadn't been that. "What?"

He sighed and settled in to explain. "I teleported, my cousin and his little gang of bullies were chasing me, 'Harry Hunting' they called it. Chase me down and beat me up, I don't know how but one moment I was running, the next I was on the school roof and the janitor had to come get me down. My relatives packed me up that day and brought me here."

Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand giving it a quick squeeze before backing off sheepishly. Harry hadn't been kidding when he'd said his relatives were not nice people if they let their son do that to him!

They sat in silence for a bit before she dared look at him again. "Do you really think they can help me here? To control…whatever this is?"

Harry nodded, "Yes, I don't have uncontrolled bursts of 'it' any more, and while I can only do a couple 'party tricks' I know more now than I ever did before about all of this."

She paused considering that, "So when the nurse comes back with my parents, do you think I should agree to stay here?"

Her companion considered that, before looking to her seriously. "Yeah, I think you probably should. I still think the choice is yours to make though…"

Hermione drew in a deep breath before nodding resolutely. Here was an opportunity to finally get a firm grasp on what was happening to her. Better still, here was another child, her age, who understood what she was going through. "Okay, I'll stay then." She decided before looking to him and smiling. "But only if you promise me something." She declared feeling suddenly nervous.

Harry raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her and she pressed on. "You have to promise me we'll be friends. I don't think I can do this if we're not…"

To her surprise and relief Harry smiled brightly, sticking out a hand to her. "I think I can do that. Friends?"

She clasped his hand and shook it firmly. "Friends."

* * *

"S-so, you really have someone else like her here?" Emma Granger asked uncertainly, still fighting back tears, "Someone who can do the things she does?"

Doctor Fairbanks nodded seriously, before taking a sip of tea and setting the cup back down on his desk. "Yes, the young lad—Harry, if you were wondering his name—he's had a couple incidents similar to that we witnessed earlier."

Daniel Granger, placed a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder giving it a small squeeze. "And you've been able to help him?"

The Doctor hummed agreement, "Yes, some at least, we've found that emotional control means a great deal towards keeping these incidents from happening, and with a little work he can do some of the, er—'party tricks' as we call them, on demand."

The parents mulled that over before nodding slowly in understanding. "And—they won't be…she'll be treated well won't she. I don't want her to become some sort of experiment." Emma murmured worriedly, wringing her hands.

Doctor Fairbanks shook his head, "No, at least not in the way you mean, with endless poking and prodding. There is a bit of trial and error trying to figure out what causes such outbursts, but beyond that? No, no experimenting. Perhaps legally speaking we should be reporting this to the Government but out of concern for Harry's wellbeing we've held off."

This seemed to greatly reassure Hermione's parents. "Good, good, that's…good." Dan said in a gruff voice, that clearly indicated he was trying to keep his own emotions in check. "I—we, just want what's best for her. We love her, but we—" He shook his head. "How does one deal with these sorts of things, you know?"

This earned him a sympathetic smile from the Doctor, but Emma spoke up before any response could be made. "We—we'll get to see her from time to time right?"

Doctor Fairbanks nodded firmly, "Yes, absolutely, we are more than happy to have you visit whenever you'd like. The only reason Harry does not receive visitors as well is that they showed no interest in seeing him again once they left him with us." He confided before grimacing. "If we can get her up to Harry's level, which I firmly believe we can, considering how intelligent she is, it may even be possible to let her out for a while to visit you. Though I'm very cautious to suggest permanently discharging her any time in the near future. Even Harry is not completely in control of his abilities as yet, and we've had him for a few years now."

The parents considered that, and eventually Emma huffed a sigh. "Well, I'm relieved that something really can be done to help her. We've been at our wits end for a while now…"

"Can we maybe see her again? That nurse mentioned introducing her to Harry and that she seemed somewhat calmer now…" Dan ventured.

The man across the desk from them nodded hurriedly pushing to his feet, "Of course, I imagine they've had a little while to get acquainted by now. At the very least we should check on how things are progressing, if they're still talking, I can give you a tour of the grounds and see what you think."

* * *

Later That Evening:

Normally Keira would have held more reservations about housing an unattached male and female pair in the same space in the inpatient housing units of the Witley Centre. But Harry and Hermione were a special case.

First, they were both ten, though Hermione would soon be turning eleven she knew from the paperwork. The paperwork which this time had mercifully made it through the signing process without being incinerated. Therefore neither of them were likely to be getting up to anything inappropriate in the immediate future.

Second, Harry and Hermione shared a similar…issue. One which the other residents of the facility could not be allowed to become privy to. Thus it made sense to keep them in the same area.

This 'apartment' was the on site space ostensibly set aside for her own housing. Dr Fairbanks and the others who earned a pay grade greater than five figures a year contributed a little of their income to building staff housing units on the grounds. This was sold to the board on the grounds of how abominable housing prices were in London, making it harder to hire on support staff. Thus complimentary housing would make the hiring process easier.

That this allowed her to personally care for her and Dr Fairbank's ward without removing him from the facility was a natural bonus. Though she never ceased to wonder just how the good Doctor kept the true details of Harry's issues a secret from that same board, and wasn't inclined to ask.

She presumed the Doctor would sell an additional boarder by explaining the two patients had similar issues and thus would benefit from the same care, and a sense of camaraderie that would come with a more personalized community.

Both children were thrilled, though Harry played it closer to the vest than his new friend. He had been lonely she knew, even with her doing her best to keep him company. It was hard being ten years old and having no one your own age to interact with. Thus Hermione would prove a god send.

Hermione was thrilled for a number of reasons, not the least of which was that she'd finally gain some insight into what was troubling her. However the fact that the apartment was much nicer than the in-patient rooms in the main facility was no less important to her.

The second meeting with the girl's parents went much better than the first. Hermione was no longer so distraught and was much more enthusiastic about staying there than before, now that she knew they could indeed help her at the Witley Centre.

They had parted on amicable terms, with the assurance that sometime in the near future they could do more than day visits and actually take their daughter home for the weekend or on short trips off site.

Keira and Harry had spent the rest of the day acquainting Hermione with the facility, before returning to the apartment for dinner. While Hermione was still justifiably nervous, being away from home without her parents, she nevertheless relaxed enough that by the time bed-time rolled around Keira was reasonably certain the girl would sleep.

It was a couple minutes after lights out with their new companion that she was tucking Harry into bed. "So, what do you think big guy?" She asked Harry as he curled up under the sheets.

"I like her, she's nice. It'll be good to have someone who understands around…er—" He stammered out that last bit clearly realizing how some might interpret that as a criticism. She merely waved that off.

"It's okay kiddo I got you. The doctors and I do our best but unless it happens to us, we have no hope of truly understanding what you're feeling. It's not like we have a huge frame of reference for your little parlour tricks after all."

He eased in response to her understanding. "I hope she likes it here…" He ventured eventually, before yawning. "Its nice not to be alone."

She ruffled his hair affectionately, "I'm sure she will Harry, now have a good rest you hear me?" At his nod she smiled before reaching over to hit the light and paced back out of the room only pausing at the door, "Night Harry…"

"Night Keira."

She smiled at that as she closed the door. "Not a bad day all things considered." She murmured to herself. Even if it had started with flames and screaming. How weird could her life get?

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I hope you enjoyed that. Please review and comment.


	7. Alternate Start To WWM

**Author's Note:** This was an way I was considering rebooting WWM. It didn't work out, unfortunately, so I went with the current version instead. Regardless I hope you enjoy this 'Plot Bunny'. Now, I am fairly certain this is the last straight HP plot bunny for a while. I've said that before and been wrong however.

* * *

 **JANUARY. 7th. 2015**

Sirius Black was woken by the the loud bang of his door swinging open and bouncing off the door stopper, causing him to bolt upright, and flail for his wand - only to find it being dangled in front of his face by a distinctly disapproving young witch with curly brown hair.

It took a moment, one largely occupied by him blinking at her rather stupidly through sleep crusted eyes, before his aching brain managed to figure out just who she was. It was Hermione Granger his Godson, Harry's, best friend. What she was doing in his room at what - upon checking his bedside clock - proved to be an ungodly hour of the morning? Which is to say, it was morning and therefore too early.

"Catch," she instructed brusquely, giving him a moment before tossing a small vial at him, which he did manage to clumsily grab a hold of. At his still confused expression she sighed. "It's a hangover potion from the bathroom first-aid kit." She remarked dryly. "I need to talk to you, and I need you coherent."

He groaned and rolled over onto his back, "Bollocking shite Hermione," He griped. "Can't whatever it is wait?"

She shook his head, growling slightly in aggravation. "Just drink the potion Sirius."

He shot her a reproachful look, but judging by her posture, expression, and the way she had her arms firmly folded in front of her while her right foot tapped rapidly on the floor, she wasn't budging. It was a stance he was very familiar with, hell it was a familiar expression too. Lily had worn it often enough through the years. He'd learned long ago never to argue with a woman who looked at him like that.

"Fine," He grumbled, pushing himself into a sitting position, popping the cork on the vial and downing it with a grimace. He'd likely never admit it, but he did feel much better once the aftertaste left his mouth. "Now then, what did you want to talk about so badly?" He asked, rubbing at his eyes to clear the gunk out of them.

She nodded in satisfaction and pulled up a chair from the side of the room and set it beside his bed. "I'm concerned," She said simply, pushing on before he could respond or offer a sarcastic retort. "I've been thinking things over a lot lately, and I have to say I have…concerns, yes—" She said nodding sharply to herself, "Grave concerns about the way the Headmaster has been handling matters lately. Particularly in regards to Harry."

He supposed he should have seen this coming, it was bound to happen eventually he supposed. With so many teenagers in the house eventually someone was going to protest about following directions. It was a fact of life. "I know things seem bad kiddo, but Albus always knows what he's doing, he's always got a plan—" He started, only to be surprised when she cut him off with a glare and sharp shake of her head. Hermione was normally studiously polite.

"Oh, really? Is that so?" She asked, her tone deceptively thoughtful and cheery. "If that's the case how is it that you never got a trial? That you _still_ haven't received a trial I should say. Or how Harry wasn't raised by his Godfather?"

Sirius winced. "O-okay, point." He stammered, raising his hands to stave off the clearly ticked off witch. "So he doesn't always have a plan, or know what's going on, but that was a mistake. He's apologized, and besides he's promised to get me one...eventually—"

She rolled her eyes, "He's made many more mistakes since then I assure you. I, and it appears you as well, were just too blind to see it." She said, grimacing slightly glancing away uncomfortably. "Let me put it like this, if Dumbledore has everything well in hand, how is it that Harry has had a run in with Voldemort himself every year he's been at Hogwarts except the third."

Sirius stared incredulously at the girl, then frowned considering that. _Every year except third? Really? That sounds…bad. Is she serious?_ He berated himself. Sighing he shifted so his legs hung over the side of the bed. "Right, I don't know _exactly_ what you mean, but it sounds like you've got a point." He admitted, then chuckled shaking his head at the absurdity of this situation. A grown man being rolled out of his bed and sobered up only to be dressed down by a witch who was not even half his age. Particularly by _this_ witch.

She gave him a skeptical look, though whether that was at his statement or his laughter he wasn't entirely sure. So he explained, "Sorry, it's just that—well, I never expected to be the one defending Dumbledore, particularly from you. It's not like you are any bigger on disobeying the old codger than I am. Not if this last summer was anything to go by."

To his surprise she flushed and looked down in shame for a moment, before looking back to him. "I know, and I think—well, that was a mistake on my part." She conceded, earning a surprised look from him, causing her to frown and look away again. "L-look, this isn't the time to go over that mess. There will be a time when I'd be willing to discuss it, but not right now. Suffice it to say that is one of the reasons I've been reexamining the way things have been going lately."

At his somewhat skeptical look she growled in aggravation. "Alright, fine. I messed up!" She spat, surprising him with her ire. "I promised Harry I'd be there for him and then I wasn't, but I'm hardly the only one to not live up to my word. I'm not the only hypocrite in the room."

Sirius offered his own growl at that. "If you're talking about me going after Peter—"

She cut him off with a sharp gesture, "I'm not, though I suppose that would have been fitting enough an example. No, I meant the way you bestow all these grand sayings and wise statements on Harry, which he laps up like a man dying of thirst. And then you fail to live up to your own professed morals."

Sirius pushed to his feet, at the same time she did, though she didn't back down even as he glared at her darkly. "Explain, now—" he bit out. He didn't like the tone she was taking with him, or what she was implying.

"You want an example? Fine. If it'll get us over this and moving on to more important things." She snapped. "Do you recall what it was you said when we all talked about Crouch last year?" She asked.

His brow furrowed in confusion. No he most certainly could not, and he couldn't imagine what relevance it could have to their present conversation. "No…" He said, trying to think back.

"Then let me refresh your memory, you said 'If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.' I remember how pleased Harry was to hear you say that." She said a touch acidly. "But tell me Sirius, how have you and Kreacher been getting along? Are you living up to that oh so high standard?"

He winced, he might not be as sharp as the girl in front of him, but he was quick enough to discern her meaning clear enough when it was put like that. Still, he felt the need to protest. "That's hardly one sided Hermione—" At the look of challenge she shot him, he sighed, and nodded. "Alright, fair enough. I will cop to being a touch hard on him. You have to remember though, he has hated me since I was a child. While I haven't handled this extremely well, it's far more complicated than you're making it seem. Also I still say he's a miserable cuss."

To his surprise she nodded, and when she spoke again it was less confrontationally "Yes, he is. He's a product of those who shaped him. That doesn't excuse continuing to treat him poorly though." She stated, before sighing and rubbing tiredly at her own eyes. It was only then Sirius really noticed how weary she appeared. If he were to guess, he'd say she'd been up a good portion of the previous night ruminating on things. "Look, we got off track. My point was we've made some mistakes, and I've been looking back at things in a somewhat different light. And I have to say I'm worried, about the way things with Harry have been handled thus far, but particularly that nothing has yet been done about this apparent…connection Harry has with Voldemort."

Sirius nodded, finally feeling a bit of understanding. He'd seen the way the pup had reacted upon learning about that, and had managed to find out the Weasley kids had found out too. He wasn't surprised Harry had discussed it with Hermione as well. "It is a problem," He agreed. "I know Harry isn't taking it particularly well. Not that I blame him."

He noticed that Hermione appeared only moderately consoled that he recognized it was a problem. Not that he was surprised, Hermione always was one of Harry's staunchest supporters. "Look, I won't talk about this whole mess we had right here to anyone, but why don't I ask the old man what he's got planned for fixing this hmm? If nothing else we can get a bit of peace of mind out of it."

Hermione chewed her lower lip and nodded, "I'd like to hear what he has to say about it, because as things stand presently it doesn't look good for Harry."

"Sure, well I can ask about that. Do you know if he's around? I can Floo to Hogwarts if need be, but it'd be easier if he were around." He offered. Hoping this would placate and comfort the girl somewhat.

She sighed, and nodded, before shooting him an apologetic look. "I'd appreciate that. He's not here right now, at least he wasn't before I came up here." She corrected herself, before sighing. "Look, Sirius, I'm sorry I blew up at you. I'm just—well I'm very troubled. Something isn't feeling right here."

He patted her lightly on the shoulder. "It's alright, I wasn't exactly being helpful and you are worried for Harry. And maybe what you said about Kreacher is true. I'll keep it in mind. As for the other thing. Let me get myself straightened out a bit and I'll see about getting an answer out of Albus."

She nodded, smiling slightly at him. And he smiled in return, "Now, why don't you go find Harry. Someone needs to keep him from brooding and Ron and Ginny seem to be struggling with it. Do something fun. Merlin knows both of you could use a bit more fun in your lives." He said, then gave her a decidedly mischievous look. "Or you could just snog him, that'd take his mind off things I'm sure."

Hermione shot him a quelling look, but didn't get overly upset pacing out of the room shaking her head in amusement. What could he say, he was still a marauder after all!

* * *

Having fun in Grimmauld Place was a lot easier said than done. The house certainly struggled to exude a sense of merriment and excitement even with the attempts to decorate the place for the holidays. Now that the holidays themselves had largely passed and the decorations had been taken down, it was back to its neo-gothic house-of-horrors aesthetic.

Unlike at the Burrow, there was nowhere for the boys to take their brooms to go flying. And unlike at Hermione's own home there would be no watching the Telly, fiddling with the computer or playing board games to pass the time. There was exploding snap or gobstones, which Ron had brought along. Hermione didn't enjoy either game. Exploding Snap was unnecessarily loud by her reckoning, even when it wasn't her face in which the card were detonating. And she abhorred the foul smelling gunk Gobstones would spew all over her if she lost a round. It was hard enough keeping her hair semi-manageable without having to clean the stuff out of it.

All in all this meant, 'having fun' at Grimmauld was mostly comprised of reading one of the house's less deadly books, doing homework or sitting around talking with anyone who happened to be in the house.

In truth, except for the fact she knew Harry would be needing her, she would really have preferred to be skiing with her parents in the Alps. Despite what she'd said to Harry when asked, she did actually enjoy such things, but she didn't want him to feel guilty. He had more than enough of that in his life.

All in all, she was grateful for the good haul of books she'd gotten this year, both from her parents and from Harry. She wasn't at all certain what to do with the…strange smelling perfume Ron had given her and the rest of her gifts had been some variety of sweet or another.

Actually thinking about the books she'd received that year left her feeling somewhat guilty. Her parents had gotten her all the latest books she'd been looking forward to but been unable to buy while at Hogwarts as well as a couple of classics she'd worn out her previous copies of. Harry had gotten her a book on practical numerology he knew she'd been lusting after thanks to their trips to Hogsmeade. And what had she gotten everyone else?

Some pictures from her time at school for her parents, were admittedly the best she'd managed this year. Though the patchwork quilt she'd made Kreacher was nice, even if he'd appeared very confused when presented with it, mumbling uncertainly under his breath about the thing. Unfortunately she'd rather struck out on the gifts for everyone else. Which in retrospect she should have seen coming. She wasn't sure why she'd thought talking homework planners were the way to go for Harry and Ron. Oh they would have been fine as a stocking stuffer she supposed but surely they deserved something a tad more enjoyable or personal for Christmas?

Regardless, her efforts to engage Harry in 'fun' were doomed to failure, especially as she stalwartly refused to entertain Sirius' parting suggestion even within the privacy of her own head for more than a moment…Okay, so not for more than five minutes…ten at the most.

She'd tried to strike up some sort of conversation but the best she'd really managed was to get them all talking about the DA. Which unfortunately ran right into a discussion about Umbridge.

"I just don't get it," Harry grumbled tiredly leaning back on the couch beside her, "I don't get why none of the teachers are willing to do anything about that…toad."

She sighed, they'd had this conversation many times before. "They can't Harry, not if they want to keep their jobs. We're all in a tight spot right now with the Ministry breathing down our necks."

He huffed irritably, "Still I'd have thought they'd step in with her forcing students to write in their own blood."

She winced a bit thinking of the cruel words cut into the back of Harry's hand. _I must not tell lies._ She'd done what she could to help him heal the cuts but…It really was appalling nothing was being done about it.

"I mean—" Harry continued, oblivious to her musings. "All McGonagall had to say when I complained about Umbridge was that I should keep my head down."

Hermione frowned at that. She didn't like thinking negatively about her head of house, but she had to admit it was odd she'd had nothing of substance to say on the matter. Which begged a couple questions actually. "Harry…did you actually show her or tell her that Umbridge was forcing you to use a Blood Quill?"

Harry paused, and looked thoughtful at that, "You know I'm not entirely sure. Maybe I didn't?"

Hermione wasn't sure if that was comforting or not. She was about to comment on that when there was the characteristic 'wump' sound of the Floo from the other room and a muffled curse. She sighed, "I'll go see who it is," She said and pushed to her feet. She hoped it was Sirius. They all needed some answers.

* * *

Sirius appeared mightily displeased when Hermione found him, dusting himself off near the Floo. In fact she suspected the last time she'd seen him looking so irate had been on the night he and Remus Lupin had confronted Wormtail two years ago. He was cursing rather evocatively under his breath, using terms that alternately brought a blush to her face, or turned her stomach slightly.

"That bad I take it?" She interrupted eventually and he looked up from his efforts to clean himself off. He could have just magicked the soot away she was sure, but something about swatting at it physically seemed somewhat cathartic for the man.

He looked up at her voice and grimaced momentarily before giving her a wan smile. "Yeah, you could say that." He chuckled bitterly.

She frowned, that…didn't sound promising at all. Which likely meant that either Dumbledore had no plan for dealing with Harry's connection to Voldemort, or it was a bad one. Then again it was possible Sirius had merely had yet another run in with Professor Snape. Or more likely, a combination of the above.

Seeing her look he shook his head briskly, "Not here. We'll talk in the Library. No nosey portraits in there. He said shooting a particularly dour looking man in one of them a pointed look. The man merely offered a sneer worthy of the potions master.

He led her up and through the house to the library, allowing them to catch a glimpse of Ron attempting, rather industriously to demonstrate a quidditch maneuver, while on the ground without a broom, as they passed the lounge the others still resided in.

The library itself was reasonably quiet once Sirius cursed a book which attempted to launch itself off one of the shelves at her, snapping viciously. He paused only to erect some privacy wards before speaking. "Do you know what Occlumency is?" Sirius asked as an opening.

She frowned, shaking her head. It was one of her personality flaws, she knew, that she did not enjoy confessing to being ignorant of something. He just waved that off, "It's a mental art, part of a pair you could say. The first is legilmency, a method that allows someone to read someone's mind and—" He raised a finger to stall any questions. "Possibly even manipulate their thoughts. Occlumency, is the opposite, the means by which someone protects their mind from any intrusion or manipulation."

Cocking her head at him, she gave him a curious look. "That sounds useful, the second one I mean. Not sure I like the idea of intentionally reading someone's mind. I assume that Occlumency is Dumbledore's solution for Harry's problem?"

He nodded, before grimacing. "Actually it's not a bad idea, so far as it goes. Unfortunately his plan has a few…problems with it." He explained. "Occlumency can keep someone out, it's true. However you have to be as skilled at Occlumency as someone is at Legilmency in order to keep them out. Care to guess who one of the few acknowledged masters in Legilmency is?"

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Voldemort?"

He nodded. "Yes, though Dumbledore admits to being similarly skilled. However he confesses he does not have a lot of personal experience with preventing old Snake face from invading his mind. Care to guess who in the Order does?"

It really wasn't that hard to figure out, she merely needed to ask herself who had been regularly exposed to the Dark Wizard. There was precisely one person who fit that criteria. "Professor Snape."

He nodded, snarling silently to himself before pacing. She shook her head. "Snape and Harry's relationship aside, I assume Occlumency is not something which can easily be learned?"

"No, it's not easy, I know a bit, natural consequence of living in a family with lots of secrets. It's even harder when it's being taught by someone who you don't trust when invading your mind with legilmency." He explained and she winced.

"A person could do a lot of damage to someone's psyche if they were less than gentle in the early stages of learning Occlumency. I can tell by your expression you have an idea just how much of a problem this could be with Snivellus trying to teach Harry." Sirius noted wryly.

She felt a bit ill at the thought. "He'd torture Harry with it. I can easily see him doing it as roughly as possible just to hurt him. And bringing up ever bad memory Harry's ever had."

Sirius nodded solemnly. "I…voiced my concerns along those lines." He winced a bit. "Perhaps a touch more vocally and impolitely than strictly necessary, especially seeing as Snape was in the room at the time. Needless to say they would not be dissuaded."

Hermione shook her head wearily, and Sirius continued. "Look, it's a bad plan, we both know it. But I'll try to teach Harry what I can about it. Not sure how much good I'll do, I'm hardly teaching material, especially right now."

"Do you have any books on the subject?" She asked looking around.

He paused and considered that, "Maybe? There's a lot of esoteric knowledge in this library." He admitted. "I'll take a look and get it to you if we have one. I'm sure you'll manage more good with it than I will."

Hermione nodded, satisfied with that promise. They stood in silence for a moment before she spoke again. "I'm still worried. This kind of plan…It could hurt Harry even worse. I'm starting to wonder if it isn't safe for Harry to be in the Headmaster's care anymore."

To her surprise, especially given Sirius' earlier reticence in speaking poorly of the headmaster, he seemed to be giving that statement some real thought. Finally he spoke, his voice low and slow at first. "Then maybe…maybe it's time we got Harry away from the Old Man?" He speculated aloud.

Perhaps it was foolish, even naive, but Hermione felt her stomach swoop uneasily at the mere thought of taking Harry away from where Dumbledore could reach him. Part of it, she wasn't entirely ashamed to admit, was that that plan came at the risk of separating her from her best friend. There were other concerns as well though. Leaving Dumbledore's sphere of influence, would not only mean leaving Hogwarts, one of the few safe places…relatively speaking, that they knew of. It would mean leaving Wizarding Britain and possibly even ICW jurisdiction all together and venturing abroad.

She chastised herself for the instinctual anxiety which arose at those notions. If it meant Harry would be safe, then perhaps being parted from her was for the best. As much as she'd hate it. As for the rest…Well Hogwarts wasn't so safe as Dumbledore liked to claim, and there were far more places outside the ICW and Wizarding Britain than was apparent.

"He wouldn't be going alone you know? I'd go with him." Sirius noted. "And you don't have to stay behind if you want to come along. I'm sure Harry would appreciate the company."

Hermione gave a start at that. There were complications associated with that, what to do to protect her parents for one thing, but…it wasn't an entirely unattractive notion she had to confess.

"Look, we don't have to decide anything right now," Sirius pointed out. "But we should definitely consider it." He offered and she nodded acceptance. "Take a while to think that over and we'll talk again later. I'll look through the library and see what I can dig up on Occlumency."

"Oh and Hermione?" She was nearly out of the room before he called out to her. He gave her a pointed look, "Try not to look the Headmaster or Snape in the eyes if you can avoid it. Who knows what they might find rattling around in that head of yours."

Hermione shuddered, a sickly chill running down her spine at the thought. She nodded jerkily before turning and leaving the room.

* * *

 **January. 8th. 2015**

Kreacher, finally made his first proper reappearance since Christmas the next morning. Sirius found the cantankerous old elf shuffling around the attic when he went up there to deposit a box full of some of the few family trinkets he actually wanted to keep. Apparently the elf was covered in dust and muttering to himself.

Perhaps it was her rather pointed argument with Sirius the day before but the man was more polite to the elf, though it was with a notedly stilted and uncomfortable edge to it. Kreacher for his part appeared to barely notice the change in tone, continuing to curse and deride any and all who crossed his path.

It was almost amusing to see Sirius' eye twitch every time he had to stifle a nasty retort or insult on his own part Hermione had to say. She still made a point to thank Sirius for putting in an effort. "Even you can't control how Kreacher ultimately acts Sirius, but you can control how you chose to behave." She consoled him.

For his part Sirius appeared to take that onboard and calm himself somewhat.

It was actually Harry who pointed out how oddly cheerful Kreacher appeared since being found in the attic. Even as he went about his usual badmouthing and arthritic patrols of the house the Elf seemed…pleased about something. Nobody quite knew what to make of that. Least of all her.

It was at brunch, part way through the morning, that Sirius decided to broach some of what she and the older wizard had discussed with Harry. "If you have a moment pup, I'd like to discuss something with you. Not here though, not really table conversation you know?"

Harry nodded eagerly, pausing to swallow the bite he'd taken of his meal. "Of course Sirius, I look forward to it."

"You two can come along if you want," Sirius offered looking to her and Ron at the other end of the table. Ron devouring his food energetically almost as fast as his mother placed it in front of him, and her carefully leaning away so as to avoid any collateral that come flying her way from the messy teenager beside her.

Ron just waved vaguely in Sirius' direction, "You guys go ahead. I'm still plenty hungry." He dismissed absently as he speared another stack of pancakes."

"Well of course you are Ronald." Molly said, bustling away again, shooting Sirius a dark look. "You're a growing boy. You need all the food to grow up right."

"That's okay Ron, I'll tell you about it later." Harry promised, though he largely went unnoticed as the pancake massacre of 2015 continued. There would of course be no survivors.

* * *

To say Harry did not like Dumbledore's plan of action for handling Voldemort running rampant through his brain would be a monumental understatement. One barely mitigated by Sirius' offer to teach Harry what he could to prevent Snape from running roughshod over his mind and the fact he'd successfully found his family's old Occlumency manual for Hermione to look over.

Things did look up somewhat, when Sirius offered to teach Hermione at the same time. However there were a couple matters they needed to touch on before they could proceed. "Sirius?" Hermione asked tentatively while they set about setting up a space to practice and study in.

The somewhat shaggy and haggard wizard looked up at the address, "I hate to ask this, but why are things so hostile between you and Professor Snape?" She asked.

Harry snorted in derision. "Is there anyone besides the Slytherins Snape isn't hostile towards?" He had the good grace to look a bit chagrined when Hermione gave him a sharp ' _You are not helping_ ' look.

Sirius shrugged, not meeting her eyes. "There's a lot of bad blood between us. The marauders and him didn't get along well in school."

It was Hermione's turn to snort derisively. "Forgive me for saying so, but this seems to be a lot more than a simple school yard rivalry. Especially considering Professor Snape seems all to happy to transfer his ire at Harry's father onto his son."

Sirius sagged, and nodded. "Okay, yeah, you're right, it is. It's complicated though. It started out as the normal school yard rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin. It got worse…out of control really; part of it was our pranks. Snape always reacted so strongly to them, we couldn't resist going after him whenever we could. Add to that the issue with Lily…"

"My mum?" Harry asked sharply.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, you see as odd as it may sound she and Sniv—Severus were friends in their early years at school. She and he were neck in neck for who was better at potions. Way I understand it they actually met before coming to school. James…well he wasn't exactly ecstatic about his Crush hanging around Snape. We probably, no—" He shook his head wearily. "We definitely took it too far some times as a result. What can I say, we were immature idiots in a lot of ways."

He sighed and sat down in one of the chairs. "Things really got out of control thanks to two particular incidents. The first was one I won't go into without Moony's permission. All you need to know was it was a colossal screw up and the other Marauders wouldn't talk to me for a month. Moony for most of that year. The second one though. We'd just played a rather rude prank on Severus. He was…humiliated. Lily stepped in, and told us off, but he was hurting and reacted poorly to her helping him. Called her something no one should call a friend."

Sirius paused, and shook his head. "I don't know the details, but it destroyed their friendship and Snape was never able to put it back together again. She refused to talk to him at school so far as I know. He never forgave us for our part in driving them apart."

Harry looked…upset, when Hermione looked over at him. "You're—you're saying that you bullied him aren't you?" He asked.

Sirius nodded bleakly. "We did, though I will say that as time went on he gave as good or worse than he got…At the worst times when I consider everything that's happened. I can't help but wonder if our actions, the way he and Lily parted ways, contributed to him becoming a Death Eater." He mused quietly before shaking his head. "He was always nastier in his retaliations than we were, where we'd prank and humiliate, he'd aim to injure. As I said it spiralled way out of control."

Hermione cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I—I'm not sure I understand, if what you say is true. How is it that Lily and James ended up together. How could she end up with someone who hurt her friend and broke their friendship?"

To her surprise Sirius actually smiled here. "James grew up." He said plainly. "I think it was seeing things come apart between the two of them, but he seemed to grasp the damage we'd done a lot more quickly than the rest of us. I think he was ashamed. Particularly when he thought of how he'd unintentionally hurt the girl he liked."

He shrugged, "He smartened up, he'd still prank occasionally, but never in the same way as before. He wasn't so…proud and boisterous around Lily either. He was more deferential and polite. Took us to task a couple times in front of her actually when we went to far. Guess he must have succeeded in showing he was changing because finally after a hundred failures, he managed to talk her into going on a date with him. From there…the rest was history."

Harry still didn't appear pleased, but he wasn't quite so stricken as he'd appeared before. Sirius seemed to understand where his godson's mind was at though. "Everyone has things in their past they aren't proud of Harry. We all make mistakes. The question is, do we learn from them and move on? Or do we let them dominate who we are today? I think, your dad took the better path. He made himself a better man. Just for her. Snape? Well I think he's been poisoned by his past. Who knows what would have happened had he smartened up the way your dad did?"

They pondered that in silence for a bit, Harry's brow particularly furrowed as he thought on that. Finally Sirius slapped his hands down onto his thighs before clapping them together. "Now, we had a purpose in coming up here remember? Occlumency. I'll give you the basics right now, and Hermione can look through the manual tonight. See if she can clarify anything I missed."

This met with agreement and the two teenagers settled in in front of the older Wizard. "Simply put, Occlumency is the technique, using a combination of meditation, calming techniques and legilmency guided journeys through your own mind which allow you build a sort of shield or mental fortress around your thoughts. The first couple things I remember being a part of this are breathing exercises to focus on for clearing your mind and meditation techniques. Now, let's see what I can show you—"

The next fifteen to twenty minutes were filled with a somewhat hit and run approach to teaching that nevertheless seemed to get the basics across. It may not have been elegant, but it was a start. Hermione was glad she'd read up on meditation in the past, it helped her filled in some of the gaps created by Sirius' somewhat wandering, absentminded approach, to instruction.

It came to an end somewhat abruptly when Ron poked his head in and looked at them quizzically. "What's all this then?" He asked, looking perplexed at their attempts at meditation. "You all practicin' to become Monks or somethin'?"

Hermione had to really fight the urge to roll her eyes and bite out a retort. "We're trying to teach Harry how to keep a certain Dark Lord from invading his mind Ron." She said a touch sharply.

He winced, then grinned somewhat uneasily. "Ah, okay then. I was just goin' to ask Harry if he wanted to play some chess…"

Sirius grimaced briefly before schooling his features. "I guess we've covered everything we can for today." He said when Harry gave him a questioning look. "Just think on what I told you and see about practicing it a little, we'll see if we can build on it tomorrow."

Harry nodded pushing to his feet, Hermione went to follow them, albeit reluctantly but stopped when Sirius subtly gestured for her to wait up a minute.

"We should continue our discussion from earlier I think, maybe not here though." He explained once they'd left. "Why don't we hit up the library again."

She nodded simply and moved to follow him, they didn't get far before they bumped into a familiar face. Or rather a familiar face framed by bubblegum pink hair. "Wotcher you two. Having a good day?" Tonks greeted, before yawning, apparently having only recently gotten up.

"Pretty good." Sirius agreed, smiling slightly at one of his favourite cousins. "You?"

"Not bad, got a shift later. You seen Wolfie about? I wanted to see if he'd take my watch on the thingamajigger." Tonks said, eyes skating warily to Hermione before snapping back to her cousin.

"Not since last night I'm afraid. Might check his room though." Sirius said shrugging.

Tonks nodded, and headed off to do just that. They made it the rest of the way to the library uninterrupted.

* * *

As before the first thing Sirius did before getting down to business was erect a privacy barrier, something Hermione resolved to ask him about later. She might not be able to practice magic outside of Hogwarts at her age, but she could still learn about it.

A thought had occurred to her after their little run in with Tonks however. "Do you think we should ask Prof—Remus, to help us with this?" She asked as they settled in to talk things over. She was surprised when Sirius made a face at that. One which appeared equal parts upset and scornful.

He explained himself before she could ask however, "I tried to discuss our concerns in general terms with Remus last night." He admitted, before scowling. "I was pretty non-specific, but he still got his back up when I questioned Dumbledore. You may not know this but Remus respects the Headmaster almost as much as Hagrid does. For similar reasons actually. If not for Dumbledore Remus might not have had the chance to learn at Hogwarts, what with his Furry little problem."

Hermione nodded, following thus far, and he pressed on. "He was…annoyed, that I got in a spat with Snape too. He told me to stop questioning the Headmaster and to sober up. Said he doesn't like talking to me when I smell like a distillery."

She winced at that. She could see why that might not have gone over well with the other Marauder. It was hard, sometimes, she reflected, to like Remus. Oh he was pleasant enough, and considering how important he was in a lot of ways to Harry, she really made an effort to see past his short comings. But…Well, the werewolf had let Harry down a lot of times in her friend's life. He'd never been there for him as a child, never checking on Harry while he was at the Dursleys. He'd barely discussed non-school related topics while teaching him in their third year. And after that? He'd vanished, becoming just as absent in Harry's life as he was before, until this year that was. Not that he was spending much time talking with Harry even now.

She collected herself and shook her head, dismissing that line of thought for now. "Have you thought about what you suggested since last night?"

He nodded, "Yeah, actually more than I thought I would. I have to say I'm starting to warm to the idea." He said, before smiling ruefully at her. "Although I admit I trust my own opinions on the matter less than I normally would."

Hermione felt one of her eyebrows hitch upward at that, a man prone to self-censorship Sirius Black was not. "Why is that?"

He sighed, raking a hand back through his hair irritably. "I've…not been myself since Azkaban. Even a couple years later, my minds still foggy in some ways. It doesn't help that I wonder if I might be letting my own…issues with Dumbledore keeping me cooped up here colour my opinions. It's part of the reason I've been drinking more than I should lately." He admitted looking rather chagrined.

She looked him over calculatingly, he didn't appear drunk at present, though that could be a higher than normal tolerance for the stuff. "Are you drunk right now?" She asked eventually.

He shook his head quickly, "No, but I sure wish I was sometimes."

Hermione felt sympathy for the man, she truly did, but they had matters at hand which required his attention. "If you can, stay sober as much as possible over the next while. Harry will be needing you at your best."

Sirius blinked at that assertion, before nodding, apparently accepting the truth of that, only to stop and give her a searching look. "You care a great deal about him don't you?" He asked.

A sharp nod met this, "Of course I do, he's my best friend."

He snorted in amusement, "Forgive me for saying so but you don't see Ron watching out for Harry the way you do. You ever consider taking a run at him?"

She blushed at his implication. "Not really, no." She muttered, turning away. "He's never shown any interest, besides I'm probably not his type considering his fixation on Cho. Not that it matters, we've got more important things to worry about right now."

The look Sirius gave her was eloquent, but she ignored it pointedly and he left it at that.

"If it helps," Hermione began, getting herself straightened out. "I think the idea is a good one. I think all things considered it's probably the most responsible notion we could come up with."

Sirius smirked before chuckling to himself. "Look at me, I must be getting old if I'm acting responsibly."

Hermione smiled sadly at him, "Parenting will do that to a person. After all being responsible has a lot to do with caring for someone. You're basically the only parent Harry has."

That statement appeared to catch Sirius by surprise when it was put so bluntly and he looked honestly thoughtful as he considered that.

Hermione, was also thoughtful, though for an admittedly different reason. "You know, we can keep having these secret meetings, and keep discussing this all day long, even come up with plans to make it happen. But it won't come to anything if we can't convince Harry to willingly go along with it."

Sirius nodded, "I'm sure we can figure out a way to explain our concerns to him."

"Only problem might be getting him away from the others for a suitable amount of time." She mused, pacing slightly within the area protected by the privacy barrier.

"I'm sure I could come up with a suitable distraction if necessary, though it'd be simpler to just have him come on up for an Occlumency lesson or cover it by having him fill me in on some of what's happened over the years."

Hermione smiled, "That could work. Besides, if we can't think of some way to get Harry away from the others for awhile what hope do we have of outsmarting the Headmaster when it comes to that?"

* * *

Unfortunately getting a chance to speak to Harry alone, was easier said than done. Most of the day was frittered away with chores, meals, yet another round of Wizarding Chess, or just chattering away with one of the many other guests staying in the house. It was only after supper that Hermione and Sirius finally managed to corner Harry. Even then they'd nearly had to invite Ron along, only for that problem to solve itself when Harry promised to tell him all about it if the redhead really would prefer to be doing something else.

Ron, to his credit, had seemed pleased with that solution, lacking for the most part, the patience to sit through weighty discussions. Up until his mother stormed into the room and announced that another round of cleaning was at hand that was.

"Actually Molly, I really need to borrow Harry for a bit, and Hermione's agreed to help out." Sirius interjected when it looked like the excitable matron was about to ShangHai them into it as well.

"Really, Sirius. Can't it wait, with these constant interruptions you'll be lucky if this place is ever properly cleaned." Mrs. Weasley huffed. "Besides a little hard work never did any one harm. It will do them no good to continue to—"

Sirius firmly raised a hand to stop her, not that it really did much good. He had to speak himself before she quieted down. "I never said hard work was bad for them Molly. However I don't get a chance to talk with Harry much as it is. In fact, until this Christmas I'd actually spent more time with _your_ children than with my own Godson." He explained, surprisingly patiently. "Now, if Hermione would prefer to stay and help Ron, that's her choice. She is after all not mine to order about." He said.

"I'd really like to help Harry with Sirius Mrs. Weasley." Hermione said firmly. Trying not to note the way Ron looked disappointed, or the way the older Witch's mouth thinned dangerously.

"Well, fine then. But after you are done whatever it is you're up to, I'd appreciate it if you sent them back to help the others out." Mrs. Weasley finally conceded with ill grace.

Sirius merely inclined his head slightly in agreement. "Of course. I'm hopeful that we'll finish up at a reasonable time."

With that the trio retreated to the same room they'd settled in before, Sirius setting up some basic privacy wards, earning a slightly confused look from Harry. "Just want to ensure we aren't bothering anyone…or interrupted for that matter." He explained to his godson.

Once everyone were settled properly into their chairs Sirius beamed happily at his godson, before giving Hermione a significant look. "Now, it occurs to me that for all the time we've been spending together we haven't had much of a chance to talk about you—" Here Sirius stopped and corrected himself. "Well, we have - technically - I suppose. But not anything really important."

Hermione could see the sense in taking this approach, considering their _actual_ objective with this conversation. Harry however seemed less than sanguine about the idea. "I—well, I suppose we could. It's nothing really interesting though. I mean what more is there to say? I'm just Harry."

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Honestly, you'll never be _just_ Harry. Think of all the things we've gotten up to in school alone!" She pointed out, causing Harry to smile ruefully. "It's not like Sirius has heard about all the things you've gotten up to over the years."

Harry nodded, though still looked somewhat reluctant, so Sirius added his two knuts worth. "Why don't we start from the beginning? I get the impression things weren't pleasant with your relatives, so we can skip that for the most part if you'd prefer—" The still somewhat ragged wizard suggested. Getting a relieved look from his godson. "But there are a couple things I'd like to hear about before we talk about your time at Hogwarts."

Harry frowned, before nodding warily. "Such as?"

"Such as: Did you know about magic before your Hogwarts letter? What was it like when you got it? Were you excited, worried? What about when one of the professors dropped by to tell you about things?" Sirius suggested.

A grimace was Harry's first response, before his features smoothed out and he sighed. "As far as my relatives were concerned the less I knew about magic the better. I think they hoped my magic would go away if I didn't know about it. Fat lot of good that did them…" He grumped settling into a brooding silence.

It took a small nudge from Hermione before he started up again. "Ah, right…Getting the Hogwarts letter was a bit of a chore honestly. The Dursleys did everything in their power to stop me from reading it. They actually had us pack up and go on 'holiday' to a little shack out on an island to try and stop the letters from showing up." He explained, smiling grimly at some memory only he could see.

"It was Hagrid actually, who came to get me. What a mess that was…" And they were off. Harry took a while explaining the incident with the Groundskeeper on the little island that night. Then talking about his initial awe and excitement at seeing Diagon Alley and catching his first real glimpse of the Wizarding world.

And while those stories certainly brightened the overall tone of the conversation, Hermione felt deepening disquiet at the calm resignation that filled her friend's voice when discussing His relatives. Judging by his expression, Sirius was feeling something similar. "I hate to ask this Harry, but do you know why Dumbledore thought it was a good idea for you to stay with the Dursleys?" She asked a touch tentatively.

Her friend frowned and shook his head. "No, yet another thing he's been less than forthcoming about. He's implied it has something to do with how my mother protected me from Voldemort, but nothing else. Kinda hard to ask him again when he's avoiding me like the plague…"

From there they carried on to discussing first year. Sirius had in fact already been aware of 'The Troll Incident', but had not yet heard about Hermione setting Snape's robes on fire, or about the incident with the Philosopher's Stone.

"I have to say, I don't understand the purpose of the gauntlet the Headmaster set up. Leaving aside how bad an idea it is to have that in a school full of children and teenagers, those 'challenges' - and I use that term lightly - are hardly anything that would stop a grown wizard, let alone Voldemort himself." Sirius grumbled. "I mean, if three first years could muddle their way through it? He'd have no difficulties with it. Enchanted mirror or no…Hell, if I'd be him I'd have been suspicious the defences weren't more dangerous!"

Neither Harry, nor Hermione seemed to know what to say to that, so they continued onto the following year. Sirius was predictably perplexed as to how Dobby's use of magic had triggered the underage magic sensors. He was _angered_ however, when the Ministry failed to investigate the matter. Even if no one at the Ministry actually cared, at the very least _Dumbledore_ should have shown an interest in expunging the matter from Harry's record.

Sirius had then at turns been both excited and appalled by the story of the flying car trip to Hogwarts. Excited because he thought such a device was intriguing, appalled because of the grave threat it provided to the statute of secrecy. A reaction only worsened by Hermione's explanation about how lucky they'd gotten not to be caught on every mobile phone and CCTV camera between London and Hogwarts.

Sirius' disquiet only grew as they really started in on the school year proper. While he'd been upset about the way Harry had been treated by the school at large, he was largely unsurprised by the fickle nature of teenagers in general.

It was then, as they moved on to the topic of the second series of attacks that Sirius managed to surprise them, figuring out the culprit was a basilisk almost immediately. When questioned on that he explained. "Alright, the first time could have been a coincidence, but any kid with an upbringing like mine - which is to say dark and creepy - should have been able to tell you the same, never mind the teachers who should have known all that stuff themselves. There's probably a dozen books in the library here at Grimmauld alone that could tell you about them, and one or two that will tell you how to go about making one."

At their horrified looks following that second assertion, he'd smirked. "You've met my mum's portrait right? I wish I could tell you she wasn't always like that, but she was. Delighted in everything dark and evil, she did. This means I grew up knowing the vagaries of just about every nasty magical creature known to wizard kind." Here he paused and looked thoughtful. "Actually, it came in handy that. It was how I spotted Remus' furry little problem so quickly as a kid."

It was a few minutes later, after discussions about the 'Dobby and the Bludger' incident, and Hermione's subsequent petrification and Harry's venture into the chamber that Harry's godfather gave up trying to understand it all. Throwing up his hands irritably. "Okay, seriously? What the hell!" Sirius barked. "There really is no excuse for the teachers not figuring out it was a basilisk by then. They had to have known and simply decided not to tell anyone. That's not even touching on the whole Lockhart obliviation thing. The man always was a coward, so I can't say I'm surprised he tried to high tail it. What I want to know is how is it that this once again fell to _my_ godson and his friends to figure out and deal with?"

He took a couple breaths then stood starting to pace. "I won't tell you off for risking facing a basilisk on your own Harry. By that point, you really had no other option when the ceiling came down. And I can't say that the problem wasn't in need of solving. I just—I hate to think of you facing off against one of the most dangerous creatures on the planet at twelve. I do have a couple concerns though."

At Harry's inquisitive look, he explained. "First off is that book, I don't know what it was, but I don't like the sounds of it. Something like that shouldn't be able to control someone, and yet it did. And the way it reacted when you destroyed it? That was weird, even for magic."

He continued to pace. "The second thing is this. The basilisk bit you right, and a Phoenix saved you?" The question was basically rhetorical, but Harry nodded all the same. "Alright, as wondrous as meeting a phoenix is, I'd encourage you to never tell anyone that you were bitten and then cured."

"Why?" Harry blurted, surprised at the direction the conversation had taken.

Sirius offered a grim smile in return. "Because Harry, your blood is just about the most magically potent substance on the face of the planet." He explained patiently. "A mixture which includes magically imbued human blood, phoenix tears and basilisk venom? I could easily see it selling for thousands of galleons a vial. Anyone with a penchant for illegal potions, poisons or alchemical concoctions would gladly kill to get their hands on even that much of it."

Harry winced, then scowled. "Great, another reason for people to try and kill me."

Sirius snorted, though it wasn't a particularly amused sound. "Yeah, pretty much. Hence why I tell you not to go talking about it more than necessary."

Thankfully, the next discussion, which involved Harry freeing Dobby was somewhat more light hearted, and in the time it took to quickly skip over third year - which Sirius was already largely familiar with - everyone was in better spirits.

"You know, it'd be so much easier to just show you all this in a penseive." Harry groused good-naturedly after they'd come to the end of that year.

Sirius cocked an eyebrow at him. "Well yeah, but where would we get one? Also, how in Merlin's name do you know about those things kiddo? They're not exactly common."

Harry just shrugged. "Dumbledore has one."

For the first time that night, Sirius appeared grudgingly admiring when thinking about the headmaster. "I suppose it makes sense that he'd have one. They're usually reserved for DMLE and the DoM. If anyone outside of those departments were to have one it'd be the Chief Warlock."

"D-O-M?" Hermione asked, her curiosity piqued at the reference to a department of the ministry she hadn't heard of.

"Department of Mysteries." Sirius said, enunciating clearly. Glancing away, looking momentarily uncomfortable. "They study new magic essentially, or stuff we don't understand. That time turner they gave you back in third year? That would have come from their division which studies time. Can't say I know much more about them. They're very secretive there." He trailed off then huffed a sigh. "Idiots"

Confused by the odd non-sequitur Harry gave his godfather an odd look, "Who's an idiot?"

Sirius snorted in amusement. "The DoM apparently, can't figure out where they get off thinking giving a fourteen year old girl a time machine - just so she can take more classes - is a good idea. They're far more dangerous than people give them credit for. Erasing yourself from history would be a fairly minor consequence considering some of the things that have happened to those who mess with Time. Atlantis is a good example."

Hermione shivered at that, "In retrospect I tend to agree, I can't help but wonder how many times I came close to accidentally killing myself that year."

The discussion about Fourth Year was somewhat more…energetic, than those previously. Sirius waxing long and loud about the idiocy displayed by not only the teachers and students of Hogwarts - he was particularly displeased with Ron's behaviour that year - but by the Ministry in general. That discussion did however earn Hermione a very heartfelt thank you from Sirius for sticking by Harry, one Harry heartily seconded a short time later.

The one moment of levity that came while discussing that year resulted from discussing the Yule Ball. "It was actually not so bad you know?" Harry mused, leaning back in his chair. "Once I got past how afraid I was of dancing and just sorta enjoyed the atmosphere it was kinda relaxing." Here he winced. "Kinda messed it up in regards to Parvati though I admit. I really should apologize next time I see her…" Shaking that off, he cast a sidelong look to his friend and smiled. "Hermione looked beautiful at the ball, you should have seen her."

Sirius nodded, "I've been meaning to ask you about that. Why didn't you two go together?" He asked, giving them a quizzical look. Eliciting embarrassed looks from the teens. "Some of the best dates a person can have are those with a good friend."

Harry paused, apparently considering that briefly. Before looking apologetically to Hermione, "I really should have you know? I mean, I think that could have been fun. I spent so much time mooning over Cho for no good reason, and what with—what I mean is, I should have asked you. Sorry Hermione." He said, looking chagrined.

She smiled at him, "It's okay Harry, I had a good time for the most part. Besides things were complicated for you that year. Still, thank you for saying so. I think going with you would have been fun as well."

The discussion then turned back to the year in question, with a brief grumbling from Sirius about the planning of the events. "You know, if they insist on bringing back a tournament which hasn't been done for hundreds of years, you'd think they'd run it a bit better. I mean what's the point of a task - Veela in swimsuits or no - where you can't see what the competitors are up to? Only to compound that error by repeating the mistake with the third? I mean it's not like you could see what was happening in that maze thanks to the hedges right, Hermione?"

She shook her head. "No, we couldn't, at least not all of us students who were in the lower seats of the stadium, which was very frustrating when I'd hear about Harry having a run in with an Acromantula or about Viktor being imperiused and attacking the other contestants."

"Krum was imperiused?" Sirius barked, surprised. "I don't remember hearing about that!"

"Might have gotten lost in the mix with the rest of what happened. Turns out it was Crouch Junior who was patrolling the edge of the maze disguised as Mad Eye." Harry explained patiently. "Not surprising really considering the whole—well the events at the graveyard."

Sirius paused at the disconsolate tone from his godson, before laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry about Cedric kiddo. Hear he was a fairly nice lad. If only we'd kept hold of Peter the year before…" He shook himself off, refocusing on the problem at hand. "I know that night must have been hard on you. Can't have been easy seeing Voldemort come back."

Harry nodded. "It was bad. He played with me before he tried to kill me. Though that didn't work out so well for him considering what happened when he did."

Sirius cocked his head curiously at him. "He wanted to duel me, show his followers I was nothing special, not that he ever planned to fight fair. Hit me with crucio a couple times before we could even begin. Then our wands locked when we started firing spells at each other…"

Sirius looked surprised. "Wait, what? Your wands—locked?" He asked perplexed.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, Dumbledore called it Priori…something. Priori Incantatem? Our wands are brothers you see so—"

Sirius slapped his own forehead, "Right, brother wands can't duel each other properly I'd forgotten about that. It's not exactly a common phenomena, but it does happen occasionally."

His godson just nodded. "The spells locked and we had a bit of…well a contest I guess you could say. The spells locked and a shield rose up and then…well—" He paused uncertainly. "Well those…things started coming out of his wand. Like ghosts…Dumbledore said they weren't ghosts I think…"

"Echoes," Sirius murmured sadly. "Echoes of those he'd killed. I assume he was using the a combat curse of some kind when your spells locked?" At Harry's nod, he hummed agreement. "Then yeah, that'd explain it. Your magic forced his wand to recite those it had attacked. Dumbledore was right, they weren't ghosts. More an imprint of those he'd fought."

Harry smiled sadly at that. "I know, I just kinda wish sometimes that they were ghosts. It was kinda nice thinking that my parents had protected me again."

"I know pup. And if they could have I'm sure they would do that for you." His godfather reassured him. "You mum and dad loved you more than anything."

When the time a few minutes later came to discuss the incident with the Moody imposter, Sirius just shook his head tiredly. "You know, I think that's the first time tonight that the headmaster has responded in a timely fashion? Correct me if I'm wrong but it seems he's awfully good at showing up late and giving you a pat on the head for dealing with something he should have taken care of himself."

Hermione had to admit, despite everything, including her intentions here tonight, she still found it a little hard to not protest that assertion against the Headmaster's abilities. A quick mental reminder about what they had been discussing so far and the urge faded quickly. Harry looked decidedly surly, but nodded. "Yeah, you could say that. I mean, I know he's a great wizard and all but—"

"No, you're right to be upset Harry, it shouldn't fall to kids to deal with every madman or dangerous beast that wanders through." Sirius stated firmly, earning a small smile from Harry.

"Things ended rather quickly after that, the other schools couldn't seem to get away from Hogwarts fast enough, and we were all prepped to head home soon after. Gave the twins—Er…" He trailed off looking sheepish. "I did mention I gave the twins my prize money to start up their shop right?"

Hermione shook her head, smiling ruefully as Sirius barked a sharp laugh. "No, can't say you did Harry. I was wondering where they got the money to do that." She admitted.

Harry smiled slightly more at their reactions, glad that she hadn't gotten after him for encouraging the mischievous pair. Finally he got back on track. "All things considered the train ride home wasn't bad. Even got my first kiss from a girl on the platform. It may have been on the cheek, but still!"

She felt herself blush, as she recalled that kiss and Sirius chuckled in understanding. Hermione for her part remembered the promise she asked him to make, which was accompanied by a deep seated feeling of shame rising up, as she recalled that it had been her, not Harry who had stood in the way of them keeping in contact. "I am sorry I didn't keep in contact last summer Harry." She murmured.

At this an sense of merriment died, and Harry sighed tiredly rubbing wearily at his eyes. "It's okay, you already explained why you did it remember?"

She frowned, thinking of that conversation during that previous visit to Grimmauld. "Maybe, but I still feel I should apologize again. I really should have tried harder to get a message to you. No matter what Dumbledore said."

Harry eyed her stoically, his expression inscrutable for a time before he nodded. "I won't lie, it hurt. I felt very alone over summer, and I really needed my friends after everything that happened." He conceded. "That it all came after you made me promise to letter you, hurt more."

She felt her eyes begin to prickle unpleasantly. She'd known she'd hurt him, but hadn't quite grasped just how true that was. And judging by the serious expression on her friend's face and the sinking feeling in her gut, she suspected he wasn't quite finished.

"But I can't help but wonder sometimes. If the choice came up again, if you had to choose between helping me and listening to Dumbledore, would you choose differently." He said. "Do you understand how much it hurts to wonder that about your friends? To wonder if they're more loyal to the headmaster of your school than to you?" He asked quietly, and Hermione felt like she'd just sustained a blow to her stomach, her insides twisting uncomfortably. Real tears began to form at the corner of her eyes.

Anything she could have said was cut off by him shaking his head and smiling sadly. "You know what, I meant what I said before, I do forgive you though. I just need you understand as well. To know what it is you did to me."

She nodded jerkily, comprehending his meaning. Her throat dry. "I do understand. It won't happen again. I-I'm sorry." She assured him. And she meant it. It was one thing to hurt your friend through ignorance or through miscalculation. It was another to do something you knew full well would hurt them. Something she fully intended to prevent herself from becoming guilty of.

"Look, why don't we call it a night?" Sirius suggested. Shooting Hermione a thankful look. "I think we've all got a lot to think on considering everything we've discussed tonight." He barked a somewhat strained laugh. "Not the least of which is apparently that the headmaster isn't so perfect as people pretend."

Harry, she noticed as she dried her eyes was nodding thoughtfully at that last statement. "Besides I think you two could use some time together with your other friend. Nothing more need be said about last summer I think. Just enjoy each other's company hm?"

The pair nodded pushing to their feet.

"Assuming nothing else comes up, how about we meet back here tomorrow morning after breakfast, see if we can't figure out how to teach you two a bit more about Occlumency. Something tells me you two will need it, and I could use a bit of a brush up in all honesty."

"Sounds good," Harry allowed, before looking to her. "Sound good to you?" He asked.

She nodded and after a couple more niceties they left the room. They were nearly back down to the kitchen when Harry stopped her. "You know, aside from that last bit about this summer, this whole conversation reminded me of something." He said, gazing at her seriously. At her confused look he elaborated. "You've always been there, ever since we met. Even when I was a less than great friend in return."

She smiled wanly at him, "You've been a good friend Harry…"

"Not always. And certainly not as good a friend as you." Harry argued, and raised a hand to stall her when she went to argue. "My point is, you've been a good friend. I just wanted to say thank you."

She smiled a touch more fully this time. "Your welcome. It was my pleasure." She said giving him a tight hug, before backing off. "Now, lets go help Ron with the cleaning, if we don't help him out with it, we'll never hear the end of it."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Hope you enjoyed that! As ever, please review and comment!


	8. Sacrifice

**Author's Note:** I'm really struggling with motivation in order to work on one of my other stories for some reason. So in the mean time I've been picking at some ideas which have been nagging me. I apologize to anyone growing impatient with me, I really can't help what my brain and emotions are doing lately.

* * *

 **Sacrifice**

Once upon a time, what seemed like an age ago to Harry, the loch and valley which had served as the haven of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, had been a a peaceful sanctuary from the outside world.

A placid lake, a quaint little village and a large verdant forest nestling in the valley beneath the protective shadow of the once great castle. It had, in times past, been the first home Harry had ever truly had. A far happier place than the domicile he'd been forced to share with his spiteful relatives.

A place where magic was real, where he'd first made friends and enjoyed his first forays into the magical world with other children his own age.

That was then though, nearly a decade past, and _this_ …was now.

Hogwarts castle and the once peaceful valley which surrounded it, were a very different place now. The once verdant forest was now an soot covered waste, the lake a polluted and ash choked mire, the town a burned out shell. As for the Castle?

Hogwarts lay in ruins.

It's once proud towers and battlements, broken and crumbled. It's halls empty, it's denizen's long absent and quiet as the tomb it had become.  
Harry tried hard, not to remember how this place had been so long ago, it was too painful to think on such things now. As such, he instead opted to simply focus his efforts on safely picking his way up and through the ruins. Following carefully in the wake of his sole remaining friend and companion, Hermione Granger, as she led him onwards towards their destination.

The Castle was empty, it's wards shattered, it's riches and wealth of knowledge long since plundered or destroyed. He was trying not to think about the skeletons which still lay littered about the otherwise empty halls.

The abandoned remains of those who had fallen in the last battle of Hogwarts. Some of them had been friends, who's bodies they'd been unable to reach until now. Friends, like Neville and Luna…and a score more besides. He couldn't look at the remains they passed, lest he recognize something that would tell him whom it was that had died there.

He still didn't know exactly _why_ they were here. Hermione hadn't told him and he couldn't begin to guess for himself in this case. She had come to him that morning, before dawn, in the kitchen of the little cottage in the hills which they shared.

She'd been tired then, and if he was honest she appeared so now as well. Her face drawn and her eyes haunted, but a small smile tugging at her lips. A pale reflection of the one he still remembered from times gone by.

She had informed him that she'd made a discovery, something which she had to show him instead of merely telling him what it was all about.

Naturally, he'd agreed to follow her when she insisted he do so. If there was one person in the world Harry knew he could trust without question, it was her. They'd been through a lot together over the years. Inseparable really. Nevertheless he'd been surprised when she had led them back here of all places.

Hogwarts, and the valley beyond were not so safe as they'd once been. They knew this well. They'd learned the hard way in times past when they'd tried to come reclaim the bodies of their friends that Voldemort's followers watched the valley and castle ruins for those who might seek shelter there. They'd released all manner of unnatural horror into the area to make it that much more dangerous for those who might venture there.

The area beyond the valley's edges was no safer, the Muggles patrolled the region surrounding the now exposed haven looking for anyone, regardless of side, who had any magic in their veins. The consequence of the statute of secrecy finally falling. There was seldom any mercy in the hearts of those who'd lost family to magicals. Many a witch or wizard, good or bad, had learned the hard way that bullets, knives, explosions and fire could kill just as easy as a curse in the right circumstances.

Harry sidestepped a pool of water which had gathered on the stone floor of the corridor they were working through, shaking his head to dislodge his wandering thoughts. He needed his attention here and now. Just because they'd made it to the castle, did not mean they were safe. They couldn't even apparate their way through the ruins because of the 'ministry' sensors that the Death Eaters still controlled.

"Are we getting closer Hermione?" Harry asked, huffing slightly as he scrambled over some rubble.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, pausing briefly in her clambering assent over a pile which blocked the majority of the passageway. She shook her head slightly, panting. "Not far now, it'd be faster if we weren't trying to avoid all the watchers outside of course…." She hauled herself up on top of the pile, briefly looking down at him with unreadable brown eyes. "We're trying to get to the Headmaster's office." She explained plainly before continuing on.

That produced a momentary pause from Harry before he pressed on after her. He knew that place, after all, he'd been there enough times over the years. Particularly when he'd been attending the school as a student. Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had always made him feel welcome whenever he'd visited…

Sure enough, as he climbed down off that last pile of rubble, he found they were standing outside the entrance to the Headmaster's office. In times past he'd often found the place exciting or at the very least interesting. Seeing it now, filled him with sorrow. The gargoyle which had once guarded the moving staircase up to the office was a shattered ruin, the tapestries and paintings which had decorated the halls nearby were torn, burned or so heavily water damaged now as to be unrecognizable.

Hermione paused at the base of the staircase and cast a series of detection spells, a good policy it turned out as she found a number of lingering alarm tripwire spells. Which she promptly disabled. "Probably set by the Death Eaters…" She muttered darkly, no doubt thinking of the numerous friends and colleagues they'd lost over the years to Death Eater ambushes.

Standing she then cast a worried look his way. "J-just follow me okay? Stick close and I'll try to make sure we don't set off any other alarms which might be around." She instructed, and Harry nodded. He was used to following her lead, though he was perfectly capable of leading himself. In this case however it was Hermione who knew exactly why they were here.

They carefully climbed past the shattered gargoyle and up the no longer moving staircase stopping twice along the way to disable more alarm spells.

It was disquieting to come to the Headmaster's door and find it slightly ajar, bumping lightly against the doorframe with the breeze flowing through the castle. It took a minute to clear all the alarms set on the doorway before they could enter, pushing the door open carefully before stepping inside.

Seeing this office, as it was now, instead of how it had remained enshrined in his mind up until then was jarring. Like a hammer blow to the stomach. The once resplendent office had been ransacked. Furniture had been broken or overturned, the paintings torn from the walls, the books burns and the display cases thrown down. Leaving pools of glittering shattered glass sprayed across the floor.

There was nothing the Death Eaters did not ruin or despoil he knew, but it still hurt to see. He shook his head sorrowfully before looking to Hermione who was also looking around sadly. "Check again? We need to be sure nobody knows we're here…." He reminded her and she grimaced before getting to work alongside him doing just that.

Whomever had been tasked with alarming and trapping the place had been very thorough and creative, it took a good ten minutes to clear the room enough they felt safe proceeding.

They decided to take a break, collecting themselves before they would press on. Harry again noticed a sense of disquiet emanating from his friend as she sat on one of the ruined chairs. Worrying her lip with her teeth as she thought on whatever it was that was bothering her.

Eventually Harry decided to try and break her out of whatever was troubling her thoughts and spoke up again. "So, want to tell me what we're doing back here?" He ventured, gesturing around.

Hermione must have been deeper in her thoughts than he'd realized as she gave a start at the sound of his voice and blinked numbly at him for a moment before regaining herself. "Sorry, uh—right, over here." She said pushing to her feet and moving across the room.

Harry frowned as he followed her. It was not unusual for Hermione to worry about something, however the level of unease he was sensing from her was unusually thick and caused his own sense of disquiet to spike sharply. _Perhaps it's being back here at Hogwarts that's doing this to her?_ He speculated as he moved to follow her.

The chamber behind the main office was a somewhat complicated one, being split between two levels by a raised metal platform which supported the ruined remains of the headmaster's orrery on the upper level.

However it was not up the steps that Hermione led him, but rather down a small stairway into the dark storage space beneath the platform. Harry waited patiently as Hermione trailed around the space looking the room over and double checking for traps and alarms. Finally she seemed satisfied with her findings and kicked over the rug which still covered the floor and pushed it to the side.

There, in the middle of an otherwise unremarkable section of circular floor was small metal sigil plate set into the ground.

Hermione promptly got down on her haunches beside it and began examining it.

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously. His interest piqued by the concealed object in the office which had once housed one of the most powerful Wizards of the age.

She smiled sadly to herself before glancing up at him, "Were the school the way it was back when we were children, I doubt either of us would have been able to find this without the Headmaster of Mistress guiding us." She said sadly. "The spells protecting this have broken down with the castle though…"

He watched her cast a couple more spells before she sighed wearily. "This is where the castle's ward stone is concealed Harry."

Harry nodded understanding, "Okay, that's interesting of course, and I could think of a couple reasons why that might draw us here. But why come here now? I thought the wards were gone?"

She nodded soberly. "They are…" She agreed before pressing her wand to the seal on the floor and channeling a bit of her magic into it, causing it to crackle for a moment before the sigil popped slightly from the floor and began to rise.

It was only then that Harry realized that the seal was actually the capital stone of the pillar like ward stone for the castle, Hermione's actions had caused the stone to come free and rise up out of the floor and indeed up through the platform into the space above.

He could see what she meant though, the runes which had at one time been the source of the wards protecting Hogwarts were all either cracked, broken or outright scorched away.

Hermione pushed to her feet and gestured for him to follow. "Come on, I'll explain up top." She said firmly before moving off without waiting for his reply.

The Pillar's entrance into the space above had triggered enchantments which had moved the broken remains of the orrery clear of the centre of the platform. The top half of the pillar now dominating the centre of the platform.

"What are you thinking Hermione?" He asked curiously. "Do you think we can reactivate the wards around Hogwarts or something?" That could be useful for a number of reasons actually, for a time at least. There were very few protected places which remained in the British Isles these days.

Hermione was shaking her head though. "No, though with enough time and effort we could do it I'm sure. Repair the rune arrays and such before charging it back up…" She speculated absently as she began pacing around the pillar in question.

"Then why…?" Harry started before stopping as she stepped sharply away from the stone and back towards him.

She flashed him a grim look before casting about for a way to explain. "The simplest way to put it is that, with the ward stone exposed, I can now access the ley lines the castle used to power itself."

Harry blinked in surprise before nodding understanding. Ley lines, were for lack of a better way of describing them, channels, rivers or currents of naturally occurring magical energy which crisscrossed the planet. There had at one time been a hub beneath Stone Henge, and another beneath the Ministry of Magic. Up until Voldemort had intentionally polluted those lines to prevent their use by anyone besides himself.

Harry hadn't been aware that Hogwarts was based on top of one as well, but it made sense that it would be he conceded. He was however surprised that the one beneath Hogwarts remained intact, and was uncertain as to just what use Hermione saw in tapping into it. He even said so.

She grimaced again. "I suspect it's intact because You-Know-Who didn't want to risk damaging all three of the major hubs in the British Isles, just incase he needed one."

"Makes sense." Harry agreed easily. "But what are we going to do with it."

Hermione paused considering, her eyes staring blankly at something only she could see. Harry waited patiently while his friend marshalled her thoughts. Finally she spoke, in a low undertone he almost missed. "I think I've found a way to win this war Harry…"

Naturally that brought him up short. Hope, of any kind, for a victory in this conflict was a long distant memory, considering all that had been lost. "What, how?" He blurted before schooling himself and shooting her a rueful look.

Hermione smiled sadly, still not meeting his eyes, wringing her hands absently. "I found an old ritual." She admitted. "It was in one of those books I managed to salvage from the library beneath Gringotts."

Harry grimaced thinking of their reward for helping in the battle of Gringotts a couple years previously. It had been a pyrrhic victory they had achieved that day. The majority of the Goblin's warriors and combat mages had died in that battle, driving the Death Eaters from their home. Filius Flitwick had been among those to fall in battle. They'd been gifted whatever books they wanted from the archives in return for their sacrifices.

"The ritual…it's from a time before the Ministry or anyone else used time turners Harry. It basically performs a similar function, albeit on a much larger scale." Hermione explained tentatively.

Harry blinked before frowning, "You're talking about time travel." It wasn't that he didn't believe it possible, he knew it was, having even used a time turner once in the past. However he was well aware of the consequences of time travel, especially for those who abused it's power.

Hermione nodded tiredly. "Yes,"

He considered the implications of that. "I thought you could only go back a few days at most with something like that though? And could only change things you didn't know had occurred…"

His friend nodded hurried agreement. "And were we still talking about time turners you'd be right." She admitted.

"But not with this ritual?" Harry clarified.

She smiled slightly, glancing his way again as she fiddled with her wand. "Correct, though it is significantly more difficult to use, and requires a vastly greater amount of power." She said pointing vaguely in the direction of the floor beneath them.

"The ley line." Harry said, getting what she was saying now.

She nodded, "Exactly."

The potential this ritual presented was startling, all the things they could change, or could prevent if they succeeded…All those people they could save. Neville, Luna, the Weasleys…the list went on forever. Still, he had some concerns.

"Alright, how far back could this potentially send us do you think? And why isn't this method used more often? Aside from the power requirements I mean…" Harry asked, pacing while he thought the problem over.

Hermione offered a small half smile, "Like I said it's incredibly difficult to use, a lot more so than a time turner ever was." She explained patiently. "In addition to the power requirements, the ritual is very complex. Not just any witch or wizard could attempt it."

Harry smirked slightly, before shooting her a knowing look, "But you can right?"

There was a brief quirk of her lips, though the amusement stopped well short of reaching her eyes. " _We_ can, yes. This ritual requires two people actually, and works somewhat different from travel with time turners."

At his questioning look she explained. "This ritual doesn't send back a person's physical form, just their soul. Which then merges with their body at the time they are sent back to. It requires two people to work however."

Harry could see now why this ritual wasn't used anymore. It was complex for one thing, requiring multiple people and a great deal of work he suspected, and with complexity came a greater risk of catastrophe should an error be made.

Add to that the…taboo the wizarding world justifiably had against tampering with souls and it was understandable why it had been abandoned.

"So, we're here to give it a try I take it?" He asked dryly, as Hermione walked around the platform casting small runic arrays in glowing letters in the air above it's surface.

Hermione nodded, as he moved to follow her, but then stopped as she pointed sharply at a circular section set into the grating near his feet. he got the message she wanted him to stand there. "So what do you need me to do?"

She paused after casting the last cluster, completing her circuitous route around the platform, he couldn't help but note the way she once again worried her lip and how she seemed to have trouble looking him in the eye. "What's wrong?"

She grimaced then shot him an apologetic look, "Sorry, nothing really. it's just going to be hard is all. Just stay standing in the middle of that circle would you?"

Harry didn't like the way she'd avoided answering him in any meaningful way, but continued to do as instructed. He didn't really believe that was all that was troubling her of course, but he trusted her, just as he always had before.

"Okay, so now what?" He asked, hoping to keep the conversation going.

Hermione paused, before directing a trio of spells at the platform, the first at his feet igniting a circle of light around his feet, and the other two in the air before her. She paused briefly glancing at him almost sorrowfully before grasping them in her hands. The disquiet inside Harry roared to life at the stark grief in her eyes before the circle at his feet flashed an barrier popped into being around him. "I'm sorry Harry, just stand still okay?"

A second more opaque magical barrier rose around the edge of the entire platform and she sighed, sagging slightly. It was only then that Harry realized she was standing in the centre of another circle similar to his own. "Hermione, what's going on?" Harry asked, the worry creeping into his voice. Something wasn't right here. He could now see tears beginning to form in the corner of his friend's eyes.

She drew in a shaking breath and he noticed her fingers whiten slightly as she tightened her grip on the floating sigils. The others which she had created before, slowly beginning to rotate around the outer edge of the platform.

Harry jumped as the sigils in her hands brightened and streams of magic lashed out of them and wrapped around her chest causing her to shudder. Finally her eyes once again met his own and she smiled sadly. "I didn't lie to you, you know?" She said sadly, "The ritual really will send a soul back in time…"

Her friend stared at her disbelievingly, watching worriedly as muscle jumped briefly in her jaw, realizing with a start that Hermione was hurting. Physically that was. She was in pain.

"The ritual isn't just complicated though…it isn't just a question of power." She said, her voice wavering now.

Harry drew his wand and directed it towards the barrier only for the curse he sent against it to be absorbed without a sound. "Hermione, what have you done?" He breathed, seeing a pale grey pallor slowly spreading across her face.

She shifted her grip on the sigils and Harry saw rivulets of blood pour between her fingers and drip onto the floor. "The ritual requires sacrifice. It's the main reason those able to use it, are not willing to do so. The more you're willing to g-give of yourself…" She shuddered, "T-the further back you'll send a person's soul." She drew in a shuddering, painful sounding breath.

The magic which gripped her chest began to spread tendrils to her arms and legs. "The p-power, is easy, especially with a ley line to help you, but the s-sacrifice is hard for most to j-justify. Especially when—" She paused to pant, squaring her shoulders to keep her grip on the sigils tight. "especially when you want to send someone back to a specific point in time, or any further back than a day or two…"

She flinched and Harry grimaced as he noticed the sclera of her eyes were darkening as vessels in them began to burst. "Hermione…" he groaned. "Stop this, please! We'll find another way!" He said pushing a hand against the barrier. It was growing stronger. If it had stopped him from breaking out before, he had no hope of it now.

The short bark of laughter which bubbled from Hermione's lips was scornful and he thought he saw red flecking them. "A-another way?" She snapped. "W-hat other way Harry? We're alone now Harry, we're all that's left! Voldemort may not have won, not with the muggles hunting us now, but everything we've ever cared about is gone!" She spat.

She closed her eyes against the pain as a tendril of magic began to creep up from her chest and dark crimson tears began to gather about her eyes, finally after a shaking breath she sank to her knees, those cursed sigils in her hands propping her upright despite her slow descent to the floor.

"I did the calculations you know?" Hermione murmured, her voice low, pained and breathless. She gave a wracking cough and shuddered. "I checked them over again and again to make sure I was right. I-in order to send you back, to a time before his return…before it all went wrong…Would require…"

She drew a shuddering breath and Harry's dread deepened as he anticipated her next words. "It would require—require everything a person had to give. Their magic, their health…their life." She finished.

Harry felt tears of his own flowing down his cheeks now. "Hermione, no. Please—" he pleaded, but she simply shook her head, her whole body quivering like a leaf now.

She was silent for a long time before she coughed a small sad laugh. "It's too late now Harry. It's why I didn't tell you what I was doing. So you couldn't stop me."

The magic wrapped around her pulsed and the last set of tendrils seemed to hook in around the corners of her mouth and eyes. Crackling more and more intensely as it drew upon her strength and fed it into the sigils.

The whirling arrays around the edge of the platform were a blur now, and Hermione struggled to bring her head up to look at him. "Hermione…stop this, it's killing you!"

She nodded tiredly, barely holding herself upright as she maintained her grip. "It is," She agreed shortly. "But it has to—has to be done Harry. This, is our only hope now."

Harry sank to his own knees across from her. "Hermione—I…" He choked.

Her eyes met his own and locked in place. "Harry, I want you to know something." She breathed.

Harry saw the outer barrier pulse and brighten until it was nearly white. "What?" He gasped, fighting to get word past the tightening in his throat.

She opened her mouth to speak but was brought up short when there was a deep gonging noise and the sigils all slammed to a halt around the ritual circle. Those she had gripped in her hands flashed and winked out before the barrier between them shattered. Harry barely managed to scramble across the platform to her before she crumpled to the floor.

The glow from the outer barrier was painful now as he pulled her limp form into his arms. She stared back up at him, almost uncomprehendingly, her skin ashen and grey now, blood dripping from her lips. She was dying, somehow Harry knew it. The ritual was complete, it would soon send him back, but his friend had paid the price for it.

"What do you want me to know Mione?" He asked, choking on grief.

His best friend in the world smiled sadly, clearly struggling to draw breath, "I love you Harry…" She whispered and he stared. "I have for a long time now. You were…a wonderful friend."

The way she spoke as if it was already over tore at his heart as he tried to comprehend what she'd just told him.

The glow from the barrier was swelling again, it was growing harder to even see his friend's broken form in his arms now. "Hermione…I—"

As she finally faded from sight, his eyes forced closed by the light he heard her speak one last time, "Goodbye Harry…good luck."

And with that, the weight in his arms lifted, like her form had turned to ash and flowed away between his fingers. And Harry wept, the bright light of the barrier painful even through his eyelids, it's dull hum rising to a roar in his ears as it seemed to close in around him.

His friend was gone, and then…so was he.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** So there we go, a potential opening for a time-travel story. Please review or otherwise comment. Thank you.


	9. Troll, in the dungeon?

**Author's Note:** This is an idea I've had kicking around for a bit. It could use a bit of polishing it is true, but I think you will enjoy it.

* * *

A flying toad, would wonders never cease? Parvati mused as she watched Neville Longbottom's toad Trevor, zoom about the classroom, croaking loudly, at the direction of Professor Flitwick's wand. She didn't think he was trying to be cruel to Trevor, or even to Neville despite the boy's worried expression as he watched his toad, Flitwick wasn't like Professor Snape after all. In all likelihood Flitwick had merely seen the toad cavorting about in front of him and decided to make use of him for a demonstration.

They'd be studying the use of the levitation charm today, judging by the flying amphibian. Flitwick tended to be very clever in the use of his examples. Still, she wondered if toads got nauseous, poor Trevor was probably wanting to hurl his guts out right about now if they did. Assuming he wasn't having the time of his little toady life.

Finally, after a minute of flying about, to the laughter of the class, Flitwick gently lowered the toad back onto Neville's desk, allowing the boy to hurriedly scoop up his pet. "As a reminder Mister Longbottom, it might be wisest if you kept your pet in a terrarium in your quarters, rather than bringing him with you to class. There's a good lad." The half-goblin said cheerfully as Neville nodded understanding.

He turned his attention back to the class, raising a pointed brow at Seamus Finnigan who was prodding a feather on his desk with his wand, causing the lad to flush and stop. It was a timely chastisement really, things Seamus prodded with his wand tended to explode, then catch fire or vice versa. She wasn't sure what it was about the boy's magic that resulted in spontaneous combustion whenever he was goofing off.

"Now, I would like to sort you all into pairs for this lesson. I want you to work together in trying to master this spell. I believe I'll start with you Miss Patil," pointing to her, seated as she was in the back row.

"You and your sister this time." He said nodding to Padma, causing Parvati to frown internally. It wasn't that she disliked her sister, or even that she had a problem with Ravenclaws, it was simply that she'd hoped she'd be paired with someone else. Perhaps Lavender, or maybe Harry?

"Of course professor," was what she said out loud though, nodding to her sister who stood up to move into the seat beside her.

"Now, who else…Hmmm, Mister Potter…Mister Finnigan…No, no. I think I shall have you with Mister Longbottom today." Flitwick decided.

Harry blinked, before nodding and shifting into a seat beside Neville. And so it went for a time, until he came to the last couple pairs. "Miss Brown," He said to Lavender. "I'd like you to pair with Mister Thomas. And Miss Granger, you're with Mister Weasley."

She and just about everyone else in the room winced. It was hard to tell who seemed more displeased with this final arrangement, Ron or Hermione. They had refused to speak to each other for well over a month now and somehow Ron had forced Harry into following his lead on this. All over freaking quidditch, Parvati thought in disgust. Harry wasn't a bad sort she knew, but she could tell he valued Ron's friendship, possibly not having had many before coming to Hogwarts, and in fairness Hermione had been rather…snotty about the new broom and events leading up to Harry getting it.

They settled in to work after that, plugging away at learning the levitation charm for close to an hour. Padma was a good partner, she knew the theory behind the spell really well, even if she struggled with the motions a bit, but hey, even she was struggling with those!

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" Flitwick chirped happily to the class as he sat atop his pile of books. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick! And saying the magic words properly very important too—" He reminded them gravely, then smiled. "Never forget Wizard Barruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.' He said cheerily.

It was more difficult than it looked, she was struggling to get the small motions right with her wand, and her accent wasn't exactly doing her favours with the words, but she was getting there. English and Latin were very different from Hindi after all. Apparently they were not the only ones struggling. Seamus blew up his feather, again, after getting impatient. Lavender had done something which had her going crosseyed for a minute before Flitwick had set her to rights and Neville was…well, he was Neville. His wand wasn't working so well.

"I—Neville I hate to ask this, but…your wand isn't broken is it. I mean…" Harry ventured eventually when Neville struggled to get the feather to do more than roll over.

"No, I don't know, Harry. I think I'm just not a very good wizard," Neville mumbled, making Parvati's heart ache a little for the boy. "This wand worked fine for da' and its an honour to have it, but…I don't know."

Harry peered at the boy uncertainly. "It was your dad's wand? You didn't get one from Ollivander?" He asked gently, shooting Professor Flitwick a look, perhaps noticing, as she had that Flitwick was giving Neville a thoughtful look upon hearing that.

"Yeah, Gran said I should use it, to honour my dad you know…Or well…" Neville stumbled.

Harry stared at the boy unreadably, likely catching as she had the implication that Neville's dad wasn't around to use it any more.

"Mister Longbottom, I remember your father quite well, I taught him myself actually." Flitwick said gently, getting their attention. "He was a fine wizard, powerful, kind and courageous. A fine example of Gryffindor courage and nobility. However, I must ask, have you ever heard the saying 'the wand chooses the wizard?" The Professor asked, much of the class having fallen silent in order to pay attention to what was being said.

Neville, looked confused. "No Professor. What does that mean?"

Flitwick sighed. "It means Mister Longbottom, that wands work differently for different people. For example I suspect Mister Potters wand would not work well for Mister Malfoy. Nor would I expect either of Misses Patil's wands to work for their sister. We are all different, and so are our wands…"

Neville looked uncertain, "But shouldn't my father's wand work for me. Gran seemed to think it would."

Flitwick hummed. "Augusta Longbottom is a strong witch, a credit to your house Mister Longbottom. But she is not a wand smith." He paused, casting his eyes about the room. "Miss Granger. May I borrow your wand a moment."

Hermione hesitated a bare moment before handing it over handle first to the Professor. He offered it to Neville. "Now, Mister Longbottom. Your mother was of a temperament more similar to Miss Granger. Would you please try the spell, this time with her wand."

Neville hesitated, glancing warily at Hermione who tentatively nodded to him. He reached out and grasped the wand before pointing it at the feather, he made the motion and said the works. Wingardium Leviosa!" And to the surprise of many, herself included, the feather slowly rose into the air."

Flitwick smiled at the awed expression on Neville's face. "I think I shall arrange with your grandmother to see to it that you get a chance to visit Mister Ollivander. You need a wand suited to you is all it is Mister Longbottom. Now. Why don't you practice that a few more times then return the wand to its owner."

Neville did so, seeming more and more astonished with each passing success. True, it was clear this wand wasn't a perfect match for him either, but it certainly seemed to work better than the other one!

Finally he returned the wand to Hermione who smiled slightly at the boy before they all returned to work.

Things continued in this vein for a time, before Parvati's attention was once more drawn away from her own work. She was finally getting the words and motion down and getting the feather to cooperate.

"No, no. Stop, stop, stop." Hermione instructed irritably as Ron shook his wand in frustration smacking it on the recalcitrant feather. "You're saying it wrong!" She snapped, apparently finally reaching her last nerve when it came to the ill tempered red head's fumblings. "It's Wing- _gar_ -dium Levi- _o_ -sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

Ron glared at the girl venomously for a moment before slapping down his wand irritably. "Fine, you do it, then, if you're so clever." He snarled, causing Parvati to wince, she saw another screaming match in the Gryffindor common room's future.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her robes with a determined expression, flicking her wand and chanting " _Wingardium Leviosa!_ " Sure enough the feather rose to hover over them all, at least four feet above the table.

"Oh, well done!" Flitwick congratulated hurrying over from the other side of the room. Clapping happily. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Parvati's guts clenched uneasily at the look of purest loathing Ron was levelling at his erstwhile partner's back. Parvati had a very bad feeling about this.

* * *

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," Ron snarled as they all filed out of the classroom into the crowded corridor. "She's a nightmare, honestly!"

Parvati felt someone shove past her bumping into Harry as well on the way through. She caught a glimpse of the person face, and realized it was Hermione, what's more, she was in tears.

She was so startled by this that she ran straight into Harry's back when he came to a stop not far beyond the doorway out of the class room. She took a step back, as she was sure many of the students did. Harry Potter was angry, hands clenching beside him, what was more than that, he was glowing. Apparently Ron, had noticed his _friend_ was no longer beside him as he turned, eyes widening as he took a step back upon seeing Harry. "Er—problem Harry?" He asked.

Harry glared at the red head for a moment, before finally speaking. "What is your malfunction Weasley?" He demanded.

"Er—what?" Ron stammered.

"Did you not just see her run past? She heard you, you prat!" Harry snapped.

Ron winced, glancing up the corridor, "So?" He stammered, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I was just saying what you're all thinking. Besides, she must have noticed she's got no friends."

Harry glared at the boy. "Well, I for one can tell you I wasn't thinking that Ron." Harry said sharply. "And what's more I'm getting really sick of your attitude towards her. Yes, she's a bit…abrasive sometimes, but honestly what you're doing is worse. You're being a bully, and I've had it up to hear with bullies in my life."

Ron winced at the accusation, then hesitated. "Er—I suppose, uh…I suppose you're right. I—I could go apologize?" He suggested.

Harry shook his head, "Don't bother, I doubt you'd mean it, considering how nasty you've been to her thus far. Just—just stay the hell away from me Ron. I've had it with this shite." He said.

Ron looked honestly startled, "What—but mate, c'mon, it's not that big a deal. Whats it matter any ways. She's hardly worth getting…"

Harry glared him into silence, but it was someone else entirely who spoke next. "I think that is quite enough boys." Came the quiet yet firm voice of Professor Flitwick beside her, causing her to give a slight start. Harry jerked, turning to see the Professor standing there eyeing them both sternly. Ron spotted the professor and paled dramatically.

Flitwick peered seriously at the loitering students, before allowing his eyes to cut back to Ron. "Fifteen points from Gryffindor Mister Weasley and detention with me tomorrow night. For your unkind words about another student. Perhaps some hard work will make you reconsider being so unkind." He stated, causing Ron to deflate, then looked to Harry. "A further five points from you Mister Potter for language and shouting in the halls. That said…" He trailed off eyeing Harry for a moment, "Twenty points to Gryffindor for standing up for someone else, when no one else would. I expected better from the house of the noble and brave." Flitwick said eyeing the rest of them, causing Parvati to suddenly feel a guilty swoop in her belly as she realized she'd just stood there while Ron vented his bile against another member of their house.

Flitwick looked to them all. "On to your next class, I believe you have a short lesson with Professor McGonagall next. Miss Patil, both of you, would you stay a moment please? You too Mister Potter."

The other students slowly began to wander off, Ron looking mutinous. Harry just looked weary as Flitwick eyed the three student before him. "Mister Potter, I don't know if you're aware of this but you were exuding an aura while you were arguing with Mister Weasley. Might I ask how you are feeling currently?"

Harry appeared startled. "I—I was? I mean…Fine sir, a bit tired, but nothing serious."

Flitwick hummed, before pulling out his wand and flicking it causing a small slip of paper to appear, before handing it over. "A late slip, Mister Potter, go see Madam Pomfrey for a pepper up before your next class. That slip will ensure Minerva understands your absence. Now then, off you trot."

Harry nodded before pacing away down the corridor with his slip in hand. Flitwick turned to regard the sisters next. "I had expected better of the both of you, neither of you stood up for Miss Granger, despite having both been subject to bullying yourselves. I will not take points from you, as doing nothing is not against the rules. However, I have a small…quest for you both, I need you to track down and check on Miss Granger. Perhaps ask one of the house elves to aid you in your mission. Perhaps if Miss Granger knows people wonder where she got to she'll feel a bit better?"

Again Parvati felt that guilty sensation in her tummy, and shot a sad look at her sister. It was true, they should have known better, they had received more than a little hate for being 'wogs' as some of the more uncouth students had taken to calling them.

"Yes Professor Flitwick, we'll see to it." She said instead, getting a nod from her sister.

He eyed them both for a moment before striding off towards a group of students down the hall. She looked to Padma and offered a weak smile. "So, where do you think we should start?"

* * *

They found her, close to an hour later, with the help of the castle's house elves, crying her eyes out in second floor girl's toilets. Parvati had checked Gryffindor tower first, considering it wasn't a bad guess that Hermione had fled up there to seal herself behind the curtains of her bed for a cry. That was what most would do. However it seemed she'd felt the need to hide away rather closer to the Charms class room.

Parvati shot her sister a guilty look as they listened to Hermione sob in one of the bathroom's cubicles. "What do you reckon, what should we say?" She asked her sister.

Padma grimaced, "Suppose we should tell her we're here…Maybe tell her why we were looking for her?"

Parvati considered that, worrying her lip for a moment before nodding. She paced along the stall until she came to the one Hermione was in. "Hermione, are you in there?" She called gently.

"Go away! Just leave me alone!" Hermione called back, her voice ragged.

She flinched a bit at the desolate tone of the girl's voice. "I'll go away in a minute, if that's what you want. Professor Flitwick sent us to search for you. Padma and I, I mean…" She ventured.

"Why?" Came the reply.

"He was worried about you, he wasn't very happy with Ron…or with any of us really. Well—except for Harry. Point is he wanted us to check on you. See how you were doing." Parvati said, getting a supportive nod from her sister, who then spoke up.

"We just want to make sure you're okay." Padma chimed in.

A snort and a bitter laugh, "Why, you couldn't have cared less earlier." Hermione choked out.

Parvati was getting mighty tired of the guilty sensations in her insides. She really wished she'd thought to speak up before. Still, she had a chance to make it right now.

"Because I should have known better, I've been bullied too since I've been here, and it sucks, I wish I'd thought to speak up when Ron was insulting you." Parvati said patiently.

There was a pause. "What do you know about being bullied…I've never heard anyone say anything bad about you!" Hermione said through her tears.

Parvati nodded, "You wouldn't have, most were pretty careful to keep quiet about it, didn't want the teachers overhearing I guess. Mostly they seem to look down on us, my sister and me I mean, because we're Indian." She paused, allowing that to sink in. "Look, that's beside the point okay. I just—I wanted to say sorry okay, so does Padma. We should have spoken up…"

There was silence for a time. "Look, why don't you come out?" Padma suggested. "That way we can say we've checked on you properly and we can talk face to face."

There was an aggravated huffed and some shuffling before the door swung open sharply. Parvati reared back a bit, finding herself face to face with Hermione Granger's tear soaked face. She didn't think she'd ever seen someone so sad. "There, you've seen me. Now leave me alone, I just want to be alone okay." Parvati opened her mouth to apologize again but Hermione shook her head. "You're just here to—to, make yourselves feel better. Well do you feel better now? I just—" She sighed, stepping back to sit on the toilet again, sitting there silently.

"Look, just go away okay," she said quietly. "Go enjoy your Halloween, and…I won't bother anyone here again okay?"

Parvati blinked, looking worriedly at her sister who'd crept closer to peer through the doorway at Hermione. "What do you mean Hermione? You're not bothering us."

Hermione snorted, "Please, I know when I'm not wanted. Ron made that abundantly clear, but so has everyone else! I—I wish I'd never come here, I'd hoped it'd be different, but it's not."

Parvati really thought she couldn't feel any lower. "You wish you hadn't come to Hogwarts?"

Hermione nodded, not looking at her. "I thought it'd be different you know. I thought magic would make things better. I'd been so lonely, but if anything Hogwarts is _worse_." She spat bitterly, before glaring at them.

"Ron's right you know, in a way. I've never had friends. No one wants to hang out with the boring, bucktooth bookworm Granger." She said, laughing bitterly at that last part. "Never have, never will."

The sisters shared guilty looks again. "You're a muggleborn right?" Padma ventured eventually and Hermione nodded.

"Yes, so?" She replied sounding defensive.

Parvati sighed. "We're not going to attack you for it Hermione, India has a very different attitude to Britain about Muggleborns. Not necessarily better, but different. We don't really subscribe to either attitude, but we don't hate you for being born to muggles."

It seemed that even this mess couldn't stifle Hermione's curiosity entirely. "What is it like for Muggleborns in India?" She asked.

Parvati grimaced a bit, but decided it was better to talk about this than to have her wallowing in her misery. "Different, like I said. The country isn't united, like in the muggle world, but the attitude persists across all the princely states. Basically they see Muggleborns as critical to the functioning of the country, however they don't feel they should be allowed to rule."

Hermione snorted, "Figures. Still, at least they don't treat us like total garbage."

Padma nodded, "We've always thought that attitude was stupid haven't we Parv?"

She hummed her agreement, "Blood is blood, and its all red, we're all human and should be afforded the same dignity." She said stoutly, "That's what papa and our mother have always said."

There was silence for a time. "I suppose it was too much to hope for that people would be better in the wizarding world." Hermione said tiredly. "People will be people wherever you go."

Parvati nodded agreement, "People will be people. Some of them will be good, others bad."

Hermione sighed, "Did you like it in India, better than here at least?"

Parvati snorted, glad they were once again addressing something other than the elephant in the room. "Yes and no. We had family back there, and nobody disliked us for being Indian, because—well, why would they?" She noted dryly. "However there's still highborn idiots who think they're better than everyone else, and our relatives weren't always the most pleasant." They stood there in silence for a few minutes.

A chime rang through the halls, the final period coming to an end, indicating everyone should drop off their things from class before heading to supper. "You feeling any better now, you maybe want to come out, get some food?" Padma suggested.

Hermione hesitated then shook her head. "Not yet, I'm a little better, but I need to think for a bit. You two should go ahead. Halloween feast should be nice…" Hermione ventured.

Parvati shot a look at Padma. There was likely little more they could do here. "If you're sure, do you want us to save you a seat at dinner?" Parvati ventured, and again got a shake of the head as a response.

"No, thank you. I—I'll be along eventually." Hermione said tiredly, rubbing at her puffy red eyes.

The Sisters nodded to her, "Okay, well…I hope you don't decide to leave Hermione," Parvati ventured as her sister started backing off. "It'd be a shame if you let them beat you, and besides we're not the only ones who felt bad about what had happened."

Hermione glanced up at her, a touch disbelieving judging by her expression. Parvati explained though. "Harry tore a strip off Ron for being so mean to you. You should have seen him. It was impressive."

Hermione remained silent for a time, "He stood up for me?" She asked eventually and Parvati nodded. "But he's always stayed quiet before…"

A hum of agreement, "Maybe so, but I think he'd finally had a gutfull of Ron being mean to you, you could ask him about it you know?"

Hermione hesitated before nodding. "Maybe I will…"

* * *

Ron and Harry were apparently still not speaking to each other, judging by the distance they'd placed between them at the dinner table. Though she had to confess that wasn't really what held her attention as she searched for a place to sit beside Lavender who was only a couple feet away from Harry.

Halloween wasn't really a thing back home in India. In fact you'd be lucky to find someone who'd heard of it. Still, it was interesting to see for the first time. Everything decorated in orange and black, live bats fluttering about the hall above their heads…on second thought, that last one couldn't be sanitary, she reflected as she watched the candles floating overhead sputter and flicker from the wind generated by their wings.

Harry glanced up as she sat beside him, and Lavender leaned in to speak to her as they started piling food on their plates. "How's Hermione?" She asked, causing Harry to look up hurriedly.

"She's…well, she's slightly better than she was." She ventured. "Last I saw her she was still hiding out in the second floor bathrooms. She shot a dark look down the table at a certain red head who was stuffing his gullet. "Crying her eyes out of course when we found her, but a bit better now. She said she needed time to think…"

"Think? Think about what?" Lavender asked, curiously.

"Whether she wants to stay at Hogwarts I think," Parvati eventually admitted.

Harry blanched, and looked down at his plate appearing sick to his stomach. Finally he looked up again, and nodded to her. "Thanks for checking on her."

She was about to inform him that it was no problem and that Flitwick had been the instigator, but the doors to the great hall suddenly banged open and Professor Quirrell sprinted into the room, his turban held on by one hand as his eyes rolled in wild panic. "Troll!" He shrieked, "Troll—In the Dungeons!"

He finally came to a stop not far from the head table. "Thought you ought to know." He said before flopping back in a dead faint.

A thought occurred to her then, given what they'd just been discussing. So, in the uproar that followed, Parvati found Harry's eyes. "Hermione doesn't know!" She shouted over the din causing his eyes to widen.

Anything he could have said was blotted out by three cannon blast spells fired from the headmaster's wand. "Prefects," He called "Lead your houses back to your dormitories immediately!"

This seemed to meet with approval, though Parvati had to wonder why, considering two of those dormitories were in the dungeons! Still her eyes once again found Harry's emerald ones, as the teachers hurried from the room in the chaos of the prefects rallying the students. "Follow me! Stick together, first-years!" Percy began, actually smiling to himself. "No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders!" He said, before Parvati tuned him out, idly noting Quirrell getting to his feet and staggering about clutching at his turban.

"How did a troll get in?" Harry muttered to himself.

"Does it matter?" She asked, grabbing Lavender's sleeve as she made to follow Percy.

Harry blinked at her, surprised at being addressed, before nodding firmly as he got a hold of himself. "Second floor bathroom you said, right?"

She nodded, "Yes, and I'm coming with you." She turned to look at Lavender who was watching them wide eyed. "Lav? Lav!" She said, shaking her to get her attention. "I need you do something, tell Percy—No, forget that, tell Flitwick or McGonagall if you see them, tell them we've gone to grab Hermione from the second floor bathroom."

Lavender nodded, before bolting off to catch up to the Prefect who appeared surprisingly unconcerned he didn't have every first-year Gryffindor tailing behind him. She and Harry stepped into the flow of Hufflepuffs heading out of the great hall.

It was a minute later as they found a side passage that they heard hurried footsteps, for a moment she worried that it was Percy, come to grab them for wandering off, only to see it was not. It was Professor Snape. She considered calling out to him, but thought better of it considering the expression on the man's face as he hurried past.

"What's he doing?" Harry whispered curiously. "Why isn't he headed for the Dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

She sighed as she pulled him along, Harry's distrust of Snape was already legendary. "Who knows? Maybe they already found it? Or maybe he's gone to call the aurors?"

Harry blinked, "Aurors? What are aurors?" He asked, causing her to stumble a bit.

"Don't you know? I mean—never mind." She said at his look. "They're like wizard police Harry, now come on, we're almost there."

It was then the smell hit them. "Oof, can you smell that?" She hissed, staggering back as they entered the second floor corridor.

Harry sniffed and then coughed as the stench, which she'd have described as a mixture of old socks and overflowing portable toilet.

And then they heard it — a low grumbling grunting, and the slow almost shuffling footsteps of gigantic feet. She pointed as she spotted movement at the end of the hall and Harry pulled her sharply into the shadows. Watching as it stepped into the moonlight filtering in from the windows.

It was…not a pretty sight. Easily twelve feet tall, its skin a dull granite grey shot through with a darker mottled pattern. Its great body, lumpen and malformed as though it was hewn from rock, it relatively small head perched between its hulking shoulders. It stood there, on thick legs, like great tree trunks, with flat knobbly feet. Unfortunately that was not all there was to it. In addition to its horrendous smell, it was wielding a great wooden club girded about with thick cast iron bands and metallic blades. It was also armoured. Someone had released a security troll into Hogwarts.

The troll shuffled along the hallways, pausing briefly to tug uncomfortably at the chainmail kilt about its waist and scratch its backside before turning to look at a doorway. It regarded it for a moment, cocking its head before seeming to make up its mind and slouching slowly into the room.

"The keys in the lock!" Harry hissed, pointing to the doorway, and moving to head for it only to stop short when she grabbed him.

"Harry, that's it, that's the girls bathroom." She said as loudly as she dared.

He froze, eyes widening, before looking back to her in confirmation. "Hermione's in there!" He said, and she nodded.

As though to punctuate this a high pitched scream came from the toilets and they rushed to the door.

And there she was, shrinking against the opposite wall, eyes wide and terrified. The Troll had spotted her and was advancing towards her hefting its club onto its shoulder and growling menacingly.

Hermione had her wand before her, clearly trying to think of something that might save her from becoming a bloody stain on the floor. "Do what you can to distract it, I'll try and grab Hermione," Harry said, eyes hardening before grabbing a tap from one of the sinks the troll had accidentally knocked from the wall and throwing it hard at the troll's back, it, and the piece of masonry Parvati hadn't even realized she'd picked up, bounced off the troll's hulking shoulders to no effect.

It slowly rolled to a stop, and turned to regard them through the slit like openings in its helmet. The scene descended into silence for a moment, and then things came unstuck. The troll bellowed and swung its club in a wide arc barely missing Hermione as it smashed through the cubicles sending bits of wood and metal everywhere, before settling into a half crouch, bellowing a thunderous challenge and charging.

Parvati didn't know how she hadn't simply frozen up in fear at this point, but both she and Harry dove aside as the beast threw itself towards them. It spun about as they scrambled away from it swinging the club again barely missing Harry as he was forced to scrabble away in the opposite direction.

Unfortunately that just left her and Hermione alone, cornered in the end of the bathroom without a door. With the troll's attention was now firmly fixed upon them. It took a glance at Harry before starting towards the pair of frightened school girls.

It took a couple steps, hefting its club to prepare for another swing when Harry then decided to do something that was at once very brave, and very, very stupid. He clambered atop some of the wrecked cubicles and took something of a running jump onto the Troll's back.

Fun fact, Trolls don't have a lot of sensation in their skin, particularly on their back, except around their fingers, not that Harry knew this. So he could likely have hung there for a while without being noticed had he not clumsily climbed up so he could grab the troll around the head and plunge his wand straight through one of the slots in the helmet and right into the Troll's eye.

The howl of pain it let out at that was deafening and it began to flail, lurching this way and that about the ruined bathroom as it tried to dislodge him. Parvati could see it now, Harry was either gonna get caught in one of those massive hands and crushed, or get smashed by that club.

She wasn't sure why she did it, perhaps she simply hoped to disarm the troll, but she had her wand out now and was pointing it at the beast's weapon and heard herself cry " _Wingardium Leviosa!_ "

And the club jerked from the beast's grasp and up into its jaw causing it to stagger back with a roar. Apparently Hermione had managed to collect herself and now had her wand moving in a spell. " _Locomotor Club!_ " She shouted.

The club, which had since fallen towards the floor suddenly changed direction and rocketed towards the troll, hammering in to land a blow which made even Parvati's eyes water in sympathy as it impacted at the juncture between its stocky legs.

So there it was, knock kneed and trembling, an almost pitiful whimper escaping its mouth as Parvati firmed her grip on her wand and cast again. " _Wingardium Leviosa!_ "

The club was once again airborne and again slammed into the abused creatures face as Harry attempted to once again regain his perch, somewhat hindered by the fact his wand was clutched tightly in one hand.

The beast staggered back. And back, and back and back, the repeated assaults leaving it reeling. She had barely a moment to realize the wall behind it was rushing closer to Harry, still perched on the troll's back, and gasp before the beast slammed into the wall, with a titanic crash, before sagging and starting its slow, almost slow motion, collapse towards the floor.

"Harry!" She cried out and hurried forward, Hermione at her heels as the beast came to lie twitching and groaning on the floor.

Perhaps it was the fact the troll was clearly incapacitated, at least for the moment, or their concern for their brave friend, but both girls scrambled over the now prone troll's arms and back in search of Harry.

They found him, unconscious, lying seemingly broken at the base of the wall. "Oh no, oh no!" Hermione cried as she slid in beside her next to Harry and reached out a hand to check for a pulse.

It was then they heard a clatter and running footsteps before multiple figures rushed into the room. At the front was Professor Snape, closely followed by Professor McGonagall, and trailed by a huffing Professor Flitwick. "I'm—ha—too short for this shit!" He growled as he stumbled into the room closely followed by Quirrell and a trio of students.

Quirrell took one look at the Troll and fainted again.

There staring in disbelief behind the teachers were Neville, Lavender and Padma.

McGonagall stared at the scene, destroyed bathroom, defeated troll and all for a moment before her eyes fixed on the three students at the base of the wall, one of whom was clearly unconscious in the arms of the other two. "Oh, dear Merlin!" She murmured before hurrying over to them, Snape close on her heels.

"He has a pulse, but he's hurt!" Hermione wept.

Professor Snape, for once a sneer nowhere in sight, pushed her fingers aside to test that claim for himself, before nodding. "It's there but thready. We need Poppy, I'll do what I can to stabilize him." He said, deadly calm even in the face of disaster.

McGonagall nodded, staggering to her feet before snapping out her wand, sending a silvery gossamer cat streaking off through the halls.

"What happened, what are you doing here?" She asked, turning her attention back to the girls, face taut.

"We were worried about Hermione, we came to get her, she didn't know about the troll!" Parvati stammered, in the face of her rising panic.

"Please Professor, it's not their fault, they were looking for me. If they hadn't found me…" Hermione pleaded.

"Reckless Gryffindors," Severus snarled under his breath.

"Severus!" McGonagall's snapped, before her face softened slightly looking back at the girls. "It's alright no one's in trouble Miss Granger. Why were you in here and not at the feast?"

"I can answer that I think." Came another voice, and they turned to see Flitwick still standing there beside the three students who'd followed the teachers. "Miss Granger had been upset after an altercation following my class. Mister Weasley had insulted her. According to what I've been told by Miss Brown and Padma here, she came here to cry."

McGonagall looked to the girls holding Harry, who nodded as they watched Professor Snape work. She nodded firmly, eyes hardening at the thought of what had happened "We'll deal with that later, I—"

There was the sound of more running feet and Pomfrey hurried into the room and knelt next to the Slytherin Head of House.

"He's stabilized, for the moment, but we really should at least get him to the infirmary." Snape said, and for a moment there Parvati could have sworn there was concern in his voice.

She shook her head as she started casting diagnostic charms. All of which were coming up red. "He won't make it with what I have on hand there, we need to get him to Saint Mungo's."

Parvati gasped, both at the frank and dire assessment and at the reference to her mother's workplace. Saint Mungo's was wizarding Britain's premier healing facility. If Harry needed to go there rather than a minor clinic or the infirmary Harry was in serious condition.

"May I ask what—" Came the Headmaster's voice only to stop short as he entered the doorway and saw the tableau before him.

"We need a portkey to Saint Mungo's Headmaster." Said Professor Snape, looking up at the sound of his voice. "And we need it now, else Potter will not make it."

"Yes, quite right." The Headmaster said, recovering admirably fast as he began pulling a ring from his pocket and enlarging it, before tapping it with his wand, causing it to glow blue. Then handing it over, Professor Snape placed it on Harry's chest and helped the pair of girls stand clear as Madam Pomfrey placed a hand on the ring.

"One-Two-Three" She chanted tapping her wand against the ring. "Activate."

And with that she and Harry vanished.

"What was that?" Hermione "Where did it take them, will Harry be alright?" Hermione asked, fearfully only to be interrupted when a low rumble emanated from the troll. She and Parvati scampered away from the beast just as the professors began to bombard the troll with a salvo of red tinged spells, finally the troll which had moments before began to move, slumped back into unconsciousness.

"That Miss Granger, was a Portkey it is a method of rapid magical travel. It took them to Saint Mungo's, Wizarding Britain's primary hospital, as for your question. I just don't know." The Headmaster admitted before turning to look at them all. "Now, perhaps you could tell me how lets see…four, no, five Gryffindors (counting Harry) and a Ravenclaw came to be here when I distinctly recall sending everyone back to their dormitories."

Hermione gulped at the Headmaster's dire tone. It was Parvati who answered. "It wasn't her fault Headmaster. She wasn't at the feast, so she couldn't have known."

He blinked, looking to her, before nodding. "We'll come back to that in a moment. How did you and the others come to be here Miss Patil?"

She swallowed, her mouth somewhat dry. "I realized that Hermione wouldn't know about the troll, and Harry decided he was going to go get her just in case the troll wandered away from the dungeons." She relayed shakily. "Percy was already leaving with most of the other first-years and well…we decided to go together. I got Lavender to promise to tell Professor Flitwick where we'd gone if she saw him. I don't know what they're doing here Professor."

Here Dumbledore looked briefly to McGonagall, who just nodded shortly at some unspoken message there. He then looked to the remaining three students. It was Neville who spoke up.

"Lavender caught up with us near the Grand Staircase, she tried to get Percy to tell a professor but he was adamant we needed to go to the dormitories. Padma heard us, as the Ravenclaws were with us at that point, and well…we decided someone needed to know where they were so when we saw Professor Flitwick coming back from the dungeons, we went to grab him."

He looked to Flitwick who nodded, "I was on my way to check the secondary entrance to the dungeons when I bumped into them Headmaster."

The Headmaster nodded, then sighed. Then looked to those gathered around him. "May I presume it was you Severus who brought it down the first time?"

The Professor was already shaking his head though before he even finished. "No, I arrived just moments before Minerva, Filius and Quirinus. It was already down when I arrived."

Dumbledore's eyebrows climbed in surprise. "Really? My goodness, and how did you achieve that you two?"

"We hit it with its own club," Hermione quavered. "Parvati hit used Wingardium Leviosa and I used Locomotor Club on it and well, it just wouldn't stop so Parvati hit it one more time with the club and it sorta staggered back, but—but…" She gulped, before pressing on. "Harry was on its back, he'd jumped on it to try and distract it when it was after us. When it staggered back, he was between it and the wall."

Dumbledore closed his eyes and sighed sorrowfully. "Which brings us, I presume to how we came to be here." He reached up to rub tiredly at his eyes.

"Very well…Minerva I need you to handle a couple matters for me. I shall be departing for Saint Mungo's shortly. I need you to ensure that everyone else is safe, and I'll need you to find out how the Gryffindor prefects failed to notice so many missing first-years."

She nodded seriously, "I'll see to it Albus."

It was then as Professor Snape leaned himself tiredly against the wall that Parvati noticed something odd. The Professor was injured, he was leaning heavily on one leg and the other appeared to be turned awkwardly.

"Professor Snape are you alright?" Parvati asked, the words tripping bpast her lips before she could stop them.

Snape stiffened, but it was Dumbledore who replied. "Professor Snape was sent to check the security precautions in the seal third floor corridor. I presume you ran afoul of one of the measures Severus?"

Snape hesitated a bare moment, then nodded firmly. "Yes headmaster. It is a relatively minor injury, nothing that requires Poppy's attention."

"It was that Cerberus wasn't it! What is that thing doing in a school?" Hermione yelped.

The professors turned to stare at the girl, who shrunk back under the scrutiny.

"Might I ask how it is you know that Miss Granger?" McGonagall said severely.

Hermione flinched, before straightening, looking a touch defiant. "We took a wrong turn, the door wasn't even locked! We didn't mean to go there." Hermione said giving the teacher a hard look.

The professors all blinked at her, before Dumbledore finally sighed. "Someone must have figured out a way past the locking spells on the door. Filius please see to resealing that door, use whatever measures you deem necessary. We can't have people wandering into that area until matters are satisfactorily handled."

Parvati noticed Hermione was looking mortified now, perhaps having just realized she'd effectively talked back to a teacher.

Parvati had a thought, "Professor Dumbledore, could we go see Harry? We're his friends and we want to know he's alright…"

The headmaster hesitated. "Perhaps in a bit, we have other matters which require handling first, first you should get back to your dormitories…we'll have food provided. Then, if the healers say it is alright, I'll have Minerva bring you and Harry's other friends to see him."

Parvati nodded, accepting that was the best they were going to get.

"Now, I really must be going, Minerva, remember what we discussed." He said before hurrying from the room.

Professor McGonagall sighed and looked to Professor Snape. "Severus please go check and ensure your snakes made it safely to their dormitory after seeing to Quirinus here. FIlius, please check in on Pomona and her badgers before heading to Ravenclaw tower. As for the rest of you? Miss Patil…Padma, please accompany Professor Flitwick. The rest of you, come with me. We have much to discuss."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** So, there you go an alternate year 1. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review, it really helps me.


	10. Alt First Year

**Warning:** hopefully minor Ron bashing. Not fully beta'd.

 **Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize belongs to JKR. The unique spins put on stuff, well, I'm pretty sure JKR still owns it. Darn.

* * *

Harry stood on the walkway between platforms nine and ten, the rather cruel laughter of his relatives ringing in his ears after being turned away by one of the guards there with a rebuke for wasting the man's time.

He needed to get onto platform nine and three quarters. Hagrid had stated as much, but the man had failed to tell Harry just how to do that when he'd given young Harry his ticket.

Harry was considering what to do next, speculating about perhaps using his new wand on the ticket box between the two platforms, when an odd sight caught his eye. Or rather it would have been an odd sight were it not for the fact he himself also had an owl in a cage on his little cart.

There, not a few meters away, was a young girl, about his own age, with dark red hair. She was standing there between two of the pillars between the platforms with a woman with greying red hair, a slightly squarish jaw and a firm expression. What they were doing there was unclear, but he strongly suspected, judging by the contents of the girl's cart that she too was headed for Hogwarts.

He approached cautiously, and the pair looked his way as he neared them. "I-I'm sorry to bother you, but are you headed to Hogwarts as well?"

The girl beamed and began nodding her head rapidly. Harry sagged in relief, then smiled weakly. "I don't suppose you know how to get onto the platform do you?"

The woman arched a brow at him, eyeing him speculatively before cocking her head at him. "I do not mean to presume, but would I be correct in my guess that you are Harry Potter?"

Harry blushed, ducking his head, still not used to people recognizing him like that. "Yes ma'am." He admitted, seeing the girl give a small start as she too recognized him.

"Professor McGonagall didn't inform you how to get onto the Platform?" The older woman asked.

He blinked in confusion, "I'm sorry, Professor who?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "As I recall Albus had said you were being raised by your muggle relatives, is that not correct?"

Harry nodded cautiously, silently reflecting that perhaps 'raised' wasn't really the correct term for it. The woman pressed on regardless, "Professor McGonagall typically handles meeting with muggleborn and raised students, she tells them how to get onto the platform amongst other things. Did she not visit you?"

He understood the confusion now, "Uh—no. I'm sorry, she wasn't the one to visit me. I got Hagrid…"

She appeared surprised, "Hagrid? Rubeus Hagrid?" She inquired. He nodded and she stifled a sigh. "Hagrid is a lovely chap, but I'd not have thought him suited to giving such a talk." She muttered before nodding firmly to herself and eyeing him again with that speculative look and nodding to one of the pillars between the platforms.

"Nine and three quarters is accessible by passing through that wall there. Typically there'd be someone else here to help guide new students through the barrier. However, I took the job this year, given my niece here is going for her first year as well." The woman said, before sighing. "Why don't you show him Susan, you go through first and I'll help him through after you."

The girl—Susan—nodded happily, beaming at her aunt before she started to push her cart, and soon it was moving at a reasonable pace towards the seemingly solid barrier. Harry watched with interest and not a little concern as the girl accelerated towards the barrier before suddenly vanishing from sight as she passed through it unimpeded.

Harry glanced around worriedly, wondering if anyone else had witnessed what he had. He turned back at the sound of the woman chuckling. "Precautions have been taken to make sure no one notices Mister Potter." She assured him, "Now, do you feel up to giving it a try?"

He nodded, "Yes, thank you for the help ma'am."

She smiled softly, "It is no problem Harry. It's what I'm here for."

He cautiously pushed his cart up to the barrier, not really feeling comfortable taking a running start at it, before slowly leaning it forward half expecting it to resist him only to feel relieved when the cart passed through without issue. He turned briefly to nod to the woman before pushing through and suddenly finding himself elsewhere, facing a scarlet steam engine waiting at a platform packed with people.

Harry glanced at the sign hanging overhead which proudly declared 'Hogwarts Express, 11 o'clock' and grinned. He glanced behind him to find a wrought iron archway where the ticket box should have been, the woman pacing through it behind him, seemingly unperturbed by having just walked through a supposedly solid wall.

He turned his attention back to the platform noting the smoke and steam rolling across it and the barely controlled chaos of the crowd as cats wove their way between feet and owls hooted to each other from their cages.

"Isn't it great Aunt Amy?" Susan asked.

The woman smiled in amusement, "It is indeed." She agreed before sighing and kneeling beside her niece. "Now then, let's get you and Mister Potter aboard, I need to be heading back to the other side of the barrier. Need to catch any stragglers. The Weasley family will be running late as always, I'm sure. Arthur does so love having the children do thing the way muggleborn's do."

Susan giggled and led the way over to one of the train cars. Her Aunt lifted her niece onto the car and then helped lift her owl cage and trunk on after her. "One little firstie…" the woman murmured, before she then helped Harry scramble up onto the car and handed off his trunk and Hedwig's cage. "Two little firsties…"

The woman stopped, regarding them as Harry noticed Susan suddenly appeared nervous. "You'll do fine Susan. It doesn't matter which house you get sorted into, I know you'll do me proud." Her aunt said causing her to blush.

"Love you Auntie."

The older woman smiled, "Love you too Susie." Harry ducked his head a bit looking at his feet, not feeling comfortable intruding. "Now, why don't you and Harry here go find a compartment together? Remember to send me an owl when you get the chance. Have a good trip."

Susan nodded, "Okay Auntie, have a good day!" She then turned to Harry blushing a bit again. "Let's go, we'll want to get a cabin before things fill up."

Harry bobbed his head and trailed after her. The first few cabins were indeed full of students, most of them older than the two first years, and most of them waving to their parents through the windows. However the fifth one along was empty save for a bushy haired girl who was busy reading a rather large book.

"I'm sorry, but would you mind terribly if we joined you?" Susan asked.

The girl looked up and Harry noted that her eyes were a touch red. He wondered if she was missing her parents already.

"Oh, no, not at all!" The girl said, appearing surprised.

They ventured further into the compartment and set about securing their trunks in the appropriate spaces overhead and set down their owl cages on the seats. The girl watched them stoically until they had finished before drawing herself up, seeming to steel herself as she set aside her book. "I suppose introductions are in order. Hermione Granger." She greeted them in a slightly bossy tone, sticking out her hand.

Susan smiled and shook hands with her. "Susan Bones, are you a muggleborn?" She asked.

Hermione nodded cautiously. "Yes…or at least we think so."

"You don't know?" Susan asked, curiously.

Hermione blushed, looking away. "My mother's a muggle, but we don't know for certain about my father." She admitted.

They descended into an uncomfortable silence for a moment. "Anyways, may I ask who you are?" Hermione asked, casting about for a way to change the subject.

He gave a start, realizing he hadn't introduced himself yet. "Oh, uh, I'm Harry. Harry Potter." He said.

Her eyes widened slightly. "Are you really?" She asked, "I know all about you, of course — I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History, and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century." She babbled.

"I am?" Harry asked, bewildered at the idea.

She gave him an odd look, "Were you not interviewed at all? They claim to quote you several times…"

Harry felt his expression darken. "No, I've never spoken with anyone about that sort of thing." He said firmly.

She frowned before glaring at one of the books beside her as though it had betrayed her. She looked back after a moment and opened her mouth to speak when there's a knock at the door and they turned to see who it is.

A blonde girl, about their age, was standing there grinning. Susan, upon seeing her, squealed and hopped to her feet rushing over to hug the girl. "Hannah!" Susan said joyously.

The two girls hugged for a moment longer, then Susan turned back to the others in the compartment, beaming. "This is Hannah Abbott, my best friend."

She then pointed to each of them. "This is Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter. Come sit with us!"

Hannah blinked in surprise as her eyes fell on Harry before giving herself a shake and hurrying to secure her trunk and cat carrier. Once done she turned around only to stop short, staring out of the compartment for a moment before hurrying past them and out into the hallway, stooping down to scoop something up into her hands before returning, closing the door behind her.

As she returned Harry saw she now had a rather fat amphibian in her hands. "A toad." Hannah said, somewhat unnecessarily.

"Probably Neville's. You know what Trevor is like…" Susan said, sounding amused.

"Neville?" Harry asked.

She blinked and then looked at him questioningly before giving a small shake of her head. "Oh right, I suppose you might not have met him. Neville Longbottom. He's a friend of ours. He should be on the train this year too!"

There was a loud whistle which echoed back from the front of the train. "We'll bbe moving soon I imagine." Hannah speculated.

"Hopefully everyone made it in time. I swear you hear about someone missing the train every year." Susan replied.

Her friend snorted dryly in amusement. "Maybe you do, your Aunt being who she is." Hannah said causing Susan to chuckle and nod.

The train jerked a bit and started moving. They watched out the window as the platform began to roll by and all the parents on the platform waving to their children. They were all startled when the door to their compartment slid open with a bang, allowing a young red headed boy to stumble in.

"Anyone sitting there? Everywhere else is full." Said the boy, pointing to a seat opposite Harry without a greeting.

Harry shook his head glancing at the others in the compartment.

"Er—hello," Hermione greeted from the sidelines. "Not to be too forward, but you've got a black mark on your nose…"

The boy glanced at her before rubbing absently at his nose and sitting himself down. "Hey, Ron. You should really introduce yourself. Mighty rude that, not even telling them your name." Remonstrated a voice from the doorway, drawing their attention to another pair of redheads peering around the door frame.

Ron, grimaced glaring down at his lap, causing the second of the pair, who were clearly twins, to roll his eyes and sigh. "Listen, we're going down the middle of the train — Lee Jordan's got a giant Tarantula down there." Said the first waggling his eyebrows at his sibling.

Ron shuddered, "Right…"

The twins looked at each other and shook their heads, before looking to those in the compartment. "Anyway, speaking of introductions—" The first said.

"We should introduce ourselves." The second completed.

"I'm Fred," Greeted the first before jerking his head at his twin. "He's George—"

"And we're the Weasley Twins." They said together, earning a few tentative smiles from those in the compartment. Fred glanced at his younger brother before reaching out to ruffle his hair causing the boy to duck away snarling.

"This one is Ron, our youngest brother." Introduced Fred patiently.

"Susan Bones," Greeted the other redhead in the compartment.

"Hannah Abbott," Chimed her friend.

"Hermione Granger," Said the brunette bobbed her head in greeting.

Harry swallowed a bit nervously, "Harry Potter,"

The Twins grinned, nodding to each of them in turn. Harry noticed that Ron had perked up and was now staring at him intently.

"Ah, well. Nice to meet you all. See you later then!" Fred said before the twins departed, closing the door behind them.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron demanded eagerly as soon as they were gone. Harry nodded cautiously, and Ron smirked. "I was wondering if it was one of Fred and George's jokes or something…"

Harry vaguely wondered how such a joke would have been possible considering he'd never seen the twins before in his life.

"And have you really got—you know…" Ron continued regardless, pointing at Harry's forehead.

Harry sighed gustily, brushing aside his fringe to show the other boy.

"Wicked," Was Ron's response. "So that's where You-Know-Who—" He began before being interrupted by an aggravated sound from Susan.

"Really Ron, that's the first thing you ask him?" She asked appearing cross. Ron reared back at the rebuke, clearly startled. "You don't even know him, and the first thing you do is ask to see his scar and try to get him talking about the night his parents were killed?" She continued skeptically.

Ron flushed, his ears turning bright red, perhaps realizing his gaff. "I was just askin'…" He muttered sullenly.

Harry cast about for a different topic. Hoping they'd just got off on the wrong foot. "Are all your relatives Wizards?" He asked the boy.

Ron shifted uncertainly, "Er—yes, I think so." He agreed before pausing. "I think mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant but we never talk about him…"

"Why don't you talk about him?" Hermione asked sharply. "I mean, it's not like he's a space alien…"

"A what?" Ron asked, clearly confused.

She sighed rolling her eyes a bit. "Someone from another world. If they're out there…"

He blinked at her, giving her a strange look, "Oh, well…no, I suppose not, but well…he's just…weird, you know? Being a squib and all."

Even Harry frowned at that one, he doesn't know what a squib was, but it didn't sound complimentary. "A what?" He asked.

Another aggravated sigh from Susan, "Someone born to magical parents who has no magic themselves." She explained, shooting a displeased look at Ron.

Ron could apparently tell he'd put his foot in it again as he looked away. "So uh…you live with muggles do you? That's what all the books say anyways. What are they like?" Ron asked.

Harry really did wonder how the boy could stumble from one uncomfortable topic to the next like that. "Horrible," He said plainly, then sighed, knowing he'd have to explain a bit. "Well…not all of them are of course, but my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin are. Wish I'd had somewhere else to go."

He didn't notice the significant look which passed between Susan and Hannah at that.

Ron, notably remained silent, clearly uncertain what to say to that.

Harry really didn't like how uncomfortable this was becoming and cast his eyes about hoping for something to talk about. His eyes fell on the owls in their cages and Hannah's cat in his carrier.

"So, do you two not have pets with you?" He asked, looking to Ron and Hermione.

Hermione shook her head, "No, my mother wasn't sure we could afford one. Maybe next year…" She ventured trailing off after a moment.

Ron sighed and withdrew a rat from his pocket, earning a look of revulsion from the girls, not that he seemed to notice. "His name's Scabbers, and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. He used to be Percy's but he got an owl from Dad for making Prefect this year…"

His ears turned red again and he looked away, apparently convinced he'd said too much, before stuffing the struggling rat back in his pocket, much to the rat's apparent displeasure before shifting to stare out the window.

The compartment descended into silence for a time, with Hermione returning to reading her book, and Susan and Hannah engaging in a few games of tic tac toe on a scrap of parchment after Susan finished jotting out a short note.

While they had been talking they'd apparently made it out of London, and they were speeding their way past fields full of cows and sheep.

It was nearly half past twelve when there was a clattering in the corridor and a woman with dimpled cheeks appeared in the doorway. "Anything off the trolley, dears?" The lady asked, smiling.

Ron flushed and shook his head but Harry and the others all crowded around the woman. Harry had expected her to be selling something he knew from the muggle world, perhaps mars bars or snickers? Instead the cart was laden with Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans, Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life.

Seeing Ron sadly pulling out a sandwich he brought with him Harry opted to buy a few more Chocolate frogs to hand off to the boy, who seemed happy at the gift.

"What are those exactly, they're not really frogs are they?" Hermione asked eyeing one of the struggling confections in the other student's hands with caution.

"Mnoof," Was Ron's reply, though his meaning still came through thanks to him shaking his head. He'd already bit a chocolate frog in half and its twitching back end was clutched in his hands.

Hermione grimaced, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that?"

Ron swallowed. "No, but you should check out what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?" Harry asked, stumped somewhat by the apparent non-sequitur.

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know—" Ron said waving a hand idly before biting into another frog. Thankfully he waited until swallowing before continuing this time. "Chocolate Frogs have cards in the package — Famous Witches and Wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Harry blinked and unwrapped one of his chocolate frogs holding the now struggling chocolate amphibian in one hand while he examined the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long crooked nose and had flowing silver hair, beard and a moustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

"So this is Dumbledore," Harry mused. He'd heard the name before, numerous times in fact thanks to Hagrid.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" Ron said, glowering absently at his own frog card. "Can I have another Chocolate Frog? I might get Agrippa—"

Harry quirked an eyebrow at the other boy, wondering where the rest of the lot he'd already given him had gone, before handing over one of the packages. Harry turned over his card and read the back. Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark Wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Harry would have commented on how the picture of Dumbledore had vanished when he turned the card over, except he'd already noticed the comings and goings of the various illustrations in his textbooks.

He noticed Ron's eyes already drifting toward his pile of chocolate frogs again. He sighed internally, "Sure, help yourself…"

Again they fell silent for a time, while they all ate their chocolate. Harry accumulated a reasonable collection of cards, none of them duplicates, despite Ron somehow managing to have eaten more of the frogs than Harry.

They tried Berti Bott's Every-Flavoured Beans next and learned the hard way that they truly meant every flavour. The train had ventured into hills and woodlands by the time they were next disturbed. There was a knock at the door and a tearful looking boy about their age stuck his head in. "I'm sorry—Oh, hey Hannah, Susan, I don't suppose you've seen Trevor have you?"

Hannah held up the toad from before. "Yup, found him in the corridor. You really need to keep a closer eye on him Neville."

Neville brightened immediately. "Trevor!" He exclaimed, sounding blissful. He looked back at Hannah after taking the toad off her. "Thanks Hannah, I owe you one."

"We still have space, if you want to sit with us…" Hannah suggested shyly.

Neville hesitated, then nodded. "Sure, just let me get my stuff."

"Don't know why he's so bothered," muttered Ron, after the boy had left. "If I'd brought a toad, I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk…"

Harry shook his head slightly, sharing an exasperated look with Hermione. The rat had at some point found his way out of Ron's pocket and was now snoozing in Ron's lap.

"He might have died, and you'd never know the difference," Ron said gazing at his pet in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday, to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…"

He pulled out a noticeably battered looking wand, and Harry noticed Hermione sitting up and taking notice. Run muttered something about Unicorn hair poking out, as he prodded his wand a little before pointing it at the rat.*

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!" Ron exclaimed.

Nothing. Scabbers stayed grey and fast asleep. Ron grimaced and waved his wand a bit more vigorously. Still nothing.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" Hermione asked, skepticism clear in her voice. Ron turned to glare at her, and she shook her head. "It's just, it's not very good if it is, is it?"

"I tried a few simple spells just for practice, and it's all worked for me. I could show you one!" She said getting excited now. She pulled out her wand and gave Harry a start when she pointed it between his eyes. "Occulus Repairo!"

He felt his glasses shift and the tape around its centre unwind. He pulled them off and looked them over, to find that they had indeed been fully repaired. He smiled slightly at the girl, "Thanks Hermione, though I think I'd have preferred you not point your wand at me without warning."

She blushed, realizing what she'd just done, and nodded. "I thought we weren't supposed to use magic away from Hogwarts anyways?" Harry mused. There was a clatter at the door as Neville returned with his belongings and Trevor.

"Normally, no." Susan agreed as they all helped him stuff his trunk up on the rack. "However, all first years are given a pass from the time they get their letter to the time they go to Hogwarts for the first time. Excepting blatant breaches of the statute of secrecy of course…"

Hermione blushed, and nodded. "Nobody in my family's magic at all, at least so far as we know, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard—" She paused, looking nervous again. "I've learnt all our set books off by heart of course, I just hope it will be enough…"

The others blinked at her in surprise.

Ron grumbled something unintelligible under his breath and Hannah coughed something that sounded suspiciously like 'Ravenclaw.'

Susan just smiled at the other girl's enthusiasm. "What house do you think you'll be in?"

Hermione gave a little bounce of excitement in her seat, "I've been asking around and I think I might want to be in Gryffindor, it sounded the bbest from what Professor McGonagall told me, and I hear Dumbledore himself was one. I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad…you?" Hermione babbled.

"Hufflepuff. I'm not surprised McGonagall spoke highly of Gryffindor, she is the head of that house after all." Susan said clearly amused.

Hermione looked to Hannah next. "Hufflepuff," The blonde said happily. "My family has all gone there."

Ron muttered something about 'duffers' which caused Hannah and Susan to give him a dark look, before attention shifted onto Neville, who looked nervous. "Honestly, I'll just be glad if any of them take me."

Hannah and Susan's faces softened at that, "It'll all work out Neville. You'll see."

Harry wondered why Neville thought he might not even get a house, but decided to not to push. They all looked to Ron next, who puffed up proudly. "Gryffindor of course, my brothers have all been in it—so were Mum and Dad too actually—I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad…" Ron said, skepticism clear on that last point. "Blimey imagine if they put me in Slytherin!"

Harry quirked an eyebrow at him, "That's the house Vol—I mean, You-Know-Who was in right?" He said recalling something about that from Hagrid or his textbooks.

Ron nodded firmly, "Yeah. Weren't a witch or wizard in Slytherin who didn't go bad…"

Somehow Harry doubted that, not the least which because Susan and Hannah were rolling their eyes again. Finally, all eyes fell on him.

"I don't know," He admitted. "I haven't heard enough about the houses to say."

Susan nodded slowly, eyeing him with that same speculative look her aunt favoured. "Well, Gryffindor's the house of the Brave…and the noble I suppose, though some would tell you it's also the house of the reckless."

Ron puffed himself up, clearly preparing to protest, but she plowed onward regardless. "Slytherin is said to be the house of the cunning and ambitious. While I wouldn't be so categorical as to say all of them go dark," Susan paused here to shoot Ron another dark look, "They do have a rather mixed past to put it mildly."

She shrugged, "Ravenclaw is for the learned and studious. A real scholar's house. Of all of them they have the least that could really be said against them."

Ron finally butted in, looking irritable at the slight against Gryffindor. "Where as Hufflepuff is for everyone else. Basically the dumping ground—"

Susan and Hannah puffed up noticeably at that. "For your information Weasley," Susan said bitingly, "Its the house of the hardworking. True they won't turn away people, but that just means they can make something out of almost anyone. It also focuses on friendship and loyalty."

It really was amazing how Ron was so talented at putting his foot in his mouth. Susan and Hannah had both expressed interest in Hufflepuff long before he'd saw fit to insult the house in question. Harry paused, pondering what he'd heard about the Houses.

Ron apparently felt the need to answer for him though, "You'll be Gryffindor for sure Harry. Both your parents were. We'll be roommates you'll see."

"I don't know that I'm all that cunning or ambitious. So I imagine Slytherin's out." Harry mused after a moment, ignoring Ron's outburst for the time being. "Not sure I'm a good enough student to be a Ravenclaw, though I try."

He hummed to himself for a moment, "Gryffindor doesn't sound so bad, I mean it'd be nice to be in the same house as my parents…" He admitted. "But I have to say Hufflepuff doesn't sound half bad either. Hard work is important if you want to get anywhere in life and friendship and loyalty are very important."

Hermione was nodding. "I hadn't heard that about Hufflepuff," She conceded. "None of the material I read said anything more than that they'd take just about anyone. Those are all good traits though. Particularly the friendship and loyalty ones…"

Harry noticed that she sounded wistful now, and wondered at the potential meaning of that. It was then he noticed Ron was once more in a sullen funk. "So, Ron, what do your brothers do?" He said, hoping to avoid any further awkwardness. "The ones who've left home I mean." It had sounded as though Ron was referring to them being in Gryffindor in the past tense.

Ron shrugged, "Charlie's in Romania, studying dragons and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," The redhead boy abruptly straightened looking excited. "Oi! Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles—someone tried to rob a high-security vault."

Harry blinked. "Really? What happened to them?"

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful dark wizard to get around Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

Harry gave Ron a strange look, "I thought he was dead."

Susan sighed, "He is dead Harry, no one's seen or heard hide nor hair of him since that night. Some people are just paranoid is all."

Ron grimaced but changed the subject after the silence stretched too long. "What's your Quidditch team?"

Harry felt flummoxed. "Er—I don't know any,"

Ron gaped at him, clearly appalled. "What? Cor, the muggle world must suck! Just you wait, it's the best game in the world!"

And he was off, explaining about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money.

Harry noticed that none of the others appeared anywhere near as enthusiastic as Ron did about the topic, but no one saw fit to stop him. He was just taking Harry through the finer points of fouls when the compartment door slid open again.

Three boys entered and Harry recognized the middle one at once with a sinking feeling. It was the pale snobbish boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was already looking at Harry with interest.

"Is it true?" He asked, "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

Harry nodded cautiously, "Yes," he agreed before looking at the two boys with him. Both were thickset and looked mean enough. Standing as they were at the boy's shoulders they looked a bit like bodyguards.

The boy noticed his gaze, "Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," He explained a touch negligently. "My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, doing a very poor job of stifling a snigger. Harry really had to fight hard to not sigh and roll his eyes at Ron's behaviour. The boy seemed intent on alienating every other student he meets in some way.

Apparently Malfoy had noticed as well as he scowled, causing a sinking feeling in Harry's guts. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford."

Harry winced, thinking of how touchy Ron has been about his apparent lack of wealth.

Malfoy turned back to Harry and opened his mouth to say something else, something rather nasty judging by his expression, but Harry just shook his head. "It's nice to meet you again Draco,"

He heard Ron gasp, but saw Susan shoot him a thumbs up for averting what he assumed was going to be another social disaster. He stuck out his hand to shake and Draco hesitated before taking it. They shook briefly.

Malfoy then turned his attention to those in the room, his eyes skated over Hermione and Ron, but lingered on the other three. "Longbottom, Abbott…Bones." He greeted stiffly.

"Heir Malfoy," Susan greeted, her tone cool, but not openly hostile. Some silent message in her eyes as she met Malfoy's own, causing him to shift uncomfortably.

"Well. I suppose I'll see you lot at Hogwarts. See you around Potter." He said before leaving quickly, shutting the door behind himself.

"You've met Malfoy before?" Ron demanded. Harry nodded before explaining briefly about their meeting in Diagon Alley. "I've heard about his family," Ron muttered, "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the dark side."

As was becoming habit after Ron made a statement like that, Harry looked to Susan questioningly and she sighed. "It's true that there's a lot of ugly rumours about the Malfoy family. The DMLEs never been able to pin them with anything though."

Harry cocked his head at her, "Draco seemed afraid of you, you just gave him a look and he seemed to want to be elsewhere."

Susan smirked a bit in amusement, "That's because of who my Aunt is. She's head of the DMLE. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. If he caused trouble around me, it could well reflect badly on his family if he went too far."

Harry nodded understanding and she checked a watch on her arm. "I think it's about time we start getting changed. Aunt Amy said it'd be around this time we arrived at Hogwarts."

Harry glanced out the window, it was indeed starting to get dark outside. "Okay," He agreed getting to his feet. "Ladies first, then the guys?" He suggested.

This seemed to meet with general agreement, and Harry, Ron and Neville ventured out into the hall and the girls closed the curtains over the windows.

Ron still looked surly after the meeting with Malfoy and Harry had to wonder about the boy's apparently volatile moods. "Did you get the impression Malfoy didn't like Hermione or something?" Harry asked after a moment, "I just mean, he barely glanced at her the entire time he was in the compartment."

Neville sighed, "The Malfoy family aren't very fond of muggleborns Harry. He likely figured that as he didn't recognize her, she must be one. People like him, they tend to look down on them…"

Harry frowned and Ron snorted, "Bet you wish you hadn't shaken his hand now. I just mean, your mum was a muggleborn right? Why'd you shake his hand anyway?" The boy griped.

Harry shook his head. "Because it's polite? And I didn't really want to get in a fight with him, even if he's—well, like he is."

Ron frowned, but subsided after that. It was only a couple more minutes before the girls opened the door again and trooped out to change places with them. The three boys changed in silence, just finishing in time to hear a voice echo through the train. "We will reach Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Harry's stomach lurched with a sudden burst of nerves and he noticed both Neville and Ron appeared pale now. Harry packed away the last of his sweets and then left the compartment to join those waiting in the corridors.

He noticed, that while Susan and Hannah appeared remarkably composed, Hermione was chewing her lip nervously. Harry had the sudden urge to comfort her. "I'm sure it'll all work out, you seem really smart. I'm sure you'll fit right in." He reassured her.

She smiled shyly at him, "Thanks."

Harry shifted uncomfortably as the train began to slow noticeably. "Thanks again for fixing my glasses."

As the train finally lurched to a stop, the crowd in the hallway surged and began to pour out the doors onto the small, dark platform. Harry wasn't sure what to do at that point, standing in the middle of the platform without direction as he was. Thankfully that issue resolved itself with the arrival of a lantern bobbing its way across the platform with a familiar face.

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! Alright there Harry?" Hagrid's large hairy face beamed out at him over the sea of heads. "C'mon, follow me—anymore firs'-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs'-years follow me!"

The path they had to follow behind Hagrid was not exactly an easy one in the dark, it was steep and narrow and a little bit damp. And it was dark enough on either side that Harry knew there must be thick trees there. The students all seemed too excited to really speak just yet.

"Yeh'll get yer first sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder. "Jus' round this bend here."

"Sure enough as they came around the bend, there was a collective gasp and many awed sounds coming from the crowd of first-years, Harry included.

The narrow path suddenly came out onto the shore of a great black lake. Across the water they could see, perched high atop a mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling like stars in the night sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid instructed, his voice drawing their attention briefly away from the castle to the small fleet of little boats gathered at a small dock on the water's edge. It smelled like docks everywhere, not that Harry knew that. It was a curious mixture of damp wood, drying water plants and tar.

Harry wasn't sure how it happened, considering how much Ron was pushing against the others, but Harry, Hermione, Susan and Hannah all ended up in a boat together. With Neville and Ron forced to find another boat for themselves.

"Everyone in?" Hagrid called from the boat he had secured for himself. "Right then—Forward!" At his call all of the boats undocked and moved off all at once, gliding out across the glassy surface of the lake.

It was eerily silent, as they all sat staring up at the castle ahead of them. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it was perched. Harry spotted a small tunnel carved into the rock face ahead of them.

"Heads down!" Hagrid instructed though it was really only him was tall enough to worry about it. Regardless they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy hanging from the mouth of the tunnel. The boats were taking them right under the castle it seemed.

After passing around a curve they came to a small harbour and at another shouted instruction from Hagrid the little boats drew up alongside it. They all clamber out onto the docks. "Oy, you there! Is this your toad?"

It seemed that Neville had somehow managed to lose Trevor again as the familiar toad was nestled in Hagrid's large hands. Neville took the toad from him happily as the students got semi-organized.

Hagrid then led them up a passageway, his lamp held high so they could all see him. Not that it was particularly hard considering the torches lighting the small harbour and Hagrid's bulk. Soon enough they found themselves at the top of some stone steps and they all crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Neville held up his hand, toad firmly clutched within it. Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked hard three times on the castle door.

* * *

* I was strongly tempted to change things so the rat exploded here. But that would have warped the story a little too wholly for my tastes. At least at this juncture.

 **Author's Note:** Right, so that was a thing. Hope you all enjoyed it! I'd like to ask anyone who read this note to tell me which of the chapters in this 'story' you've liked the most.


	11. Witches' Secret Part 1

**Author's Note:** I feel I should lead with the statement that, no matter the implications created by the subjects discussed in this story idea, I have no intention of turning this into a smut or lemon fic. It was more that I happened across similar concepts in other stories which were sadly under realized in terms of 'real world' consequences. So I wanted to see if I could adequately cover such things in a believable way. This would have been longer, but I felt that this was a good place to break up the chapters. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy this story idea. There may be a second part in a day or two.

 **Warning:** Discussions of female maturation processes, (future) sexual matters and Dark Magic rituals. This has not been fully beta'd.

* * *

 **July. 30th. 2011**

Minerva McGonagall sighed quietly as she stared up at the apartment buildings around her. So, this was going to be one of those families was it?

The apartment buildings around her were grim angled concrete facades. Soulless, dry, dead, featureless tiered monstrosities coming from a thankfully passing architectural fad from decades previous.* Yes, soulless was a good word for places like this.

At one time that look might have been in vogue with some, but now this complex was a relatively run down and low income section of London proper…

She double-checked the address from the correspondence with the family she's been sent here to find. Then checked the information board at the entrance to the apartment complex. Granger, Apartment 52. She made her way along the rows of drab apartments before climbing a set of stairs up to a landing before the apartment in question. She paused briefly paused, straightening herself out before pressing the doorbell.

There was a short chime which she heard through the metal door, followed by a brief muffled call from within. Then, the sound of multiple locks being flipped and the door cracked open, though she noticed the chain was still firmly in place.

However it was the little face she saw in the doorway that held her attention. A young lass, perhaps even the one she'd been sent here to find, with bushy hair and solemn almost haunted brown eyes. "Hello? May I help you?" The girl asked tentatively.

"Hello, my name is Professor Minerva McGonagall, I believe you—" Minerva started before stopping when the girl held up a hand.

"One moment," the girl said before closing the door sharply, then she heard the sound of the chain being undone and some more muffled voices before the door opened again, fully this time. "Please come in Professor."

The girl stepped aside allowing the Professor to enter before the door was closed behind her. It was a rather sad looking apartment, it had to be said. Oh, it was clean, almost painfully so actually, but it had a dim almost grey feel to it that no amount of scrubbing could get out. She noticed the couch was opened up to act as a bed and which led her to suspect the home only had one bedroom.

A woman entered from the small kitchen Minerva spied through a door way. She was about as tall as Minerva, and fairly thin with a tired cast to her face which left Minerva worried on her behalf. "Hello, Emma Granger." The woman greeted. "Nice to meet you Professor McGonagall."

She offered a hand to shake after drying it on a towel. The Professor shook immediately. "A pleasure to meet you in person Missus Granger."

The daughter was watching them cautiously from the doorway into the kitchen now she noticed as the silence stretched a bit uncomfortably. "I do hope my letters were not too much of an intrusion?" McGonagall offered after a moment and Emma smiled thinly.

"No, though I was surprised no one commented on an owl coming and going around here. Small community, you know how it is. Someone's always watching…"

Minerva returned the small smile, she did indeed know how it was. She'd grown up in a small town herself. She knew what people from such places could be like. "Indeed I do," she agreed.

"I admit we were somewhat confused, how is it that my daughter has qualified for a scholarship to your school? You never said in your letters…Actually you didn't say much about your school, just that it's called Hogwarts." Emma probed carefully.

The Professor nodded, "Yes, I suppose it is time I explained a bit more, may we sit?" She asked, and Emma nodded after a momentary pause, leading the way into the kitchen.

"Yes, best be in here though." The other woman opined, pulling out one of the three little chairs crammed around the little table which had been stuffed into the room. They all sat down and she noticed that the girl, Hermione if she was right in her guess about this being the one she was there for, was clutching a book tightly to her chest. Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring.

She smiles slightly upon seeing it, unlike some full blooded witches she kept up on muggle literature somewhat, she was familiar with the series in question. "Ah, a taste for fantasy hm? Is that one of your favourites?" She asked.

Hermione smiled a bit and bobbed her head. "Yes ma'am."

So polite, Minerva thought quietly, noting the way Emma smiled in fond amusement at her daughter. The Professor settled herself a bit and drew herself up a bit. "I suppose we had best get down to business then? I should open by saying that Hogwarts is a boarding school located in Scotland, and that your daughter qualifies for schooling with us because we have become aware that she is specially suited to our curriculum and because her name was drawn from a lottery including similarly talented children."

Emma frowned but nodded, chewing her lower lip as she fiddled somewhat with her hands before her on the table. "I can't say I'm overly fond of sending my daughter away for schooling, but you said she was well suited to the curriculum? How do you know? What is the curriculum?"

McGonagall smiled to herself, now came the fun part of these sorts of meetings. "It would be easier to demonstrate, might I borrow your book Miss Granger?"

Hermione cautiously handed it over, looking curious about just what the Professor might show them.

"I would simply ask that you do not panic." Minerva requested, expression serious again. Emma and Hermione shared an unreadable look but nodded cautiously in agreement.

She drew her wand from the holster at her wrist before twirling it in the air above the book. "Ranafors," McGonagall intoned carefully and the book transformed into a frog causing both Granger girl's eyes to widen comically, she then picked up the frog and offered it to Hermione who tentatively took it from her.

"Is that—that's not possible…is it?" Emma protested a bit weakly.

Minerva smiled again, if a touch ruefully. "In fact it is. Your daughter is a witch Missus Granger. Her name was known to the Ministry of Magic upon her birth due to an ancient enchantment cast over the land." She informed the other woman calmly. "As such she automatically qualified for education at any one of a number of magical schools across the United Kingdom. Hogwarts is the premier school for Magic in England however, and your daughter's name came out of the lottery this year along with several others."

Emma raised her hands to stop her, as though warding off her words. "Whoa, whoa, whoa—" She protested. "Too much, too fast. Let me see if I've got this straight." She said, pointing at the professor. "You, are a witch?"

Minerva nodded with a small smile. Emma then pointed to her daughter. "She is a witch as well and has been since birth, correct?" Again the Professor nodded, and Emma continued. "There's really something called the Ministry of Magic?"

Again the small smile graced her lips, and she nodded again. "How does that even work?" Emma asked, "Are they part of the British Government, or are they autonomous? The name suggests they are a subdivision of the government we all know."

McGonagall nodded, "Yes, in fact…" She paused reaching into a pocket to withdraw a book. One which she knew they noticed was far too big to fit in a pocket that size. "I have a book here detailing the function of the British Magical Government for Muggleborn and raised students and their parents as well as several other critical things."

She handed it across to Hermione who put down the frog/book from before and took it from her. McGonagall used the opportunity to use her wand to return the other book to its original form as it started hopping across the table. Hermione stared at the newly restored book and then up at the Professor.

"Was it real?" She asked tentatively, getting an elegant shrug in return.

"The frog? Yes and no. It had mass, volume and weight, you could feel it in your hands, however if you were to cut it open you would likely find only rough facsimiles of its proper organs, and it lacks a spirit or soul. It only behaves like a frog because I know what a frog is supposed to behave like. But yes, after a fashion it was still real."

Hermione considered that, chewing her lip in a similar fashion to the way her mother did, "What is that called, when you changed my book like that?"

McGonagall smiled thinly, "Transfiguration, it is actually the course I teach at Hogwarts."

Emma took the government book from her daughter's unresisting hands while Hermione continued to look thoughtful. She cracked open the book and stopped, looking up at McGonagall. "The pictures move…"

"That is often the first thing muggles and muggleborn students commented upon, yes." She agreed.

Emma frowned though, "What does that mean, muggle? You've said it a couple times now, I admit it sounds like an insult."

The professor opened her mouth to respond to that but it was Hermione who replied first. "It is…at least it is for us." Hermione said, blushing a bit upon realizing that she'd interrupted an adult. "Calling someone a mug or muggle in English or Portuguesse means you are gullible or foolish."

The Professor blinked at her, before shaking off her surprise "I confess I am not conversant on what the origin of the term is Miss Granger. Though you strike me as being a learned girl. For us, witches and wizards I mean, it simply means non-magical…mundane."

Emma frowned, but seemed to accept that for the moment, "So, someone who is muggleborn is someone who was, what, born to a non-magical parent?"

Minerva frowned. "Close, it actually means someone for whom both parents are non-magical. Someone who is born to a magical and non-magical or a magical and a muggleborn are referred to as half-blooded…I'm afraid those who used to be referred to as full-blooded, those who have two parents of at least half-blood status are referring to themselves as Purebloods quite often these days."

Emma grimaced and McGonagall had the sneaking suspicion she'd picked up some of the subtext behind that statement.

"If I may, I assume your husband is like you, which is to say, lacking in magic?" McGonagall asked.

Emma flinched and looked away. "I have no husband. Not anymore, and he wasn't my daughter's father anyways."

McGonagall winced a little at her unintended gaff. "Ah, my apologies for the assumption on my part. You would think I'd know better than that these days. Do you know whether her father was like you in this?"

Emma glanced at Hermione, who was looking down at the book which was once more safely ensconced in her hands with an intent expression. "I don't know. I was only with him briefly…"

The Professor winced again, it would not have been the first time she'd met a woman who had been abused by a wizard. She ardently hoped that was not the case here.

Perhaps Emma read some of those thoughts from her expression. "It wasn't like that." She said, a touch shamefaced.

"It's alright dear, you don't have to explain…" Minerva offered.

Emma shook her head sharply, "No, I should, who knows, maybe it'll all mean something to you?"

Minerva inclined her head, waiting patiently.

The other woman sighed, and raked a hand back through her hair. "I was working at a…dance club, just starting at University and I needed the money. My parents wouldn't fork out the money for me to go. I ran into a nice man, barely more than a teenager, just like me. I never even knew his name…we were drunk, he was kind and gentle with me—"

She collected herself, after a brief pause. "I remember him being dark, with grey eyes and a smiling face, but nothing more. I know that I was the one who suggested we sleep together. We were not so careful as we should have been—not that I regret my Hermione for even a moment!" She affirmed strongly, looking to her daughter, who blushed and smiled at her mother.

"Of course not, she seems a wonderful girl." The Professor opined.

Emma nodded, then sighed. "He suggested I might see him again at the er…club, but he never returned so far as I know…"

McGonagall considered that. "There are so many who fit that description…" She paused as an uncomfortable thought occurred to her. "This would have been what, eleven…twelve years ago, yes?"

Emma nodded, "Nearly twelve,"

Minerva sighed, "While I'm afraid a lot of wizards fit that description in my head, I'm afraid the matter is somewhat complicated by the fact that around that time our society was in a state of upheaval."

At their questioning looks she explained. "There was a wizard, who was what you muggles would refer to as a terrorist, terrorizing the magical world during those days. Even now, we fear saying his name, but I will tell you so that you are aware." She decided. "His name, at least the one he went by during his reign of terror, was Voldemort."

"Flight from death…" Hermione blurted.

Both adults looked to her in confusion, causing the girl to blush. "T-that's what Voldemort means in French. Flight from Death."

The Professor smiled thinly, "You have a head for languages Miss Granger?"

Emma snorted, and ruffled her daughter's hair. "A head for any knowledge really. My little spitfire here is top of her classes at school," the woman informed her proudly.

Minerva smiled more fully this time, "If you should decide to send her to Hogwarts, I have no compunction against saying I will look forward to teaching her."

Mrs Granger nodded, then frowned slightly, looking back up at the Professor. "I have some more questions."

She felt a small amused smirk quirk her lips. "I'd be surprised if you did not."

Emma nodded absently, looking troubled. "I'm sure it comes as no surprise to you that until you showed us these things I'd never really believed in magic. I've always been a practicing Anglican though, despite everything…so I've believed in miracles all my life, not a common thing these days by the way."

Professor McGonagall nodded agreement, she had indeed noticed the increasing trend towards atheism amongst the muggles of Great Britain. In some ways it made integrating into Magical Britain both easier and harder. On the one hand they didn't have some of the religious hangups that some had, but on the other hand they often had trouble accepting magic or adjusting to the old religions and traditions common in wizarding Britain.

Emma swallowed and considered how to proceed. "I admit most of what I've heard about witches and such comes either from the Bible or fantasy novels. And…I assume it goes without saying the bible is less than complimentary about witches."

The Professor was unoffended. "Indeed, I am aware of this. And it truth you can blame a combination of bad translation work, the witch hunts and a few monks with grudges against wizards for that. My understanding is that they accidentally, or in some case purposefully, scrambled the term 'witch' together with the terms utilized for those who worship and summon demons."

Emma nodded, "Yes, demons. I suppose I should ask…"

McGonagall allowed a severe visage to fall over her face. "I can assure you Missus Granger that our capabilities do not come from such entities and in fact trafficking with such creatures in any way is punishable by death by the International Confederation of Wizards."

The young mother appeared visibly relieved to hear this. "Good, that's…that's good."

"They really do exist though?" Hermione asked, looking a touch worried.

Minerva nodded sadly, "They do, though they are not common by any stretch of the imagination. In fact I'd be surprised if there was a single witch or wizard currently alive in the world today who has seen even the meagrest, meanest of true demons."

"True demons? Are there other kinds then?" The girl followed up promptly.

McGonagall couldn't help but silently sort the girl as a shoe in for Ravenclaw in her head. "Yes, after a fashion, for example there are any number of creatures referred to as demons. But which are not hell beasts or fallen angels of any sort."

Hermione nodded understanding and her mother leaned forward. "How is this not known? How can it be that none of us have ever heard of you people…Outside of legends and myths I mean?" Emma asked.

Minerva shifted a tad uncomfortably, this was always a touchy subject. "Ah, well you can thank the International Statute of Secrecy for that. It was put in place hundreds of years ago, during the witch hunts, to secret away our society as the muggle…mundane, world became more and more proficient with technology." She explained patiently. "It is a series of laws and procedures laid down to ensure that only those in high governmental positions are aware of our existence, and that any unauthorized witnesses of our kind soon forget we exist."

Emma pounced on that, "Forget?"

McGonagall grimaced, "It is one of the unfortunate…realities, of the Statute, that we occasionally are forced to modify the memories of those who witness magic. This is typically handled by specialized response teams within the Ministry."

Emma frowned, then narrowed her eyes at her. "Something tells me that is what would happen to my daughter and I if I refused to send her to Hogwarts…or one of your other schools."

Hermione gasped, and the Professor had to concede that Emma was a sharp one. "It is indeed. However, I hope to give you a number of good reasons not to do that of your own free will."

Emma considered her a moment, before nodding. "I want to know more about this school of yours…but I also want to know if there are any…risks associated with being a witch, or even those associated with turning down your offer."

She nodded understanding, "Perhaps we should start with the first of those things you mentioned. The school?" McGonagall suggested and Emma nodded.

She spent the next half-hour or so discussing the courses available at Hogwarts, her own positions there and the other professors. The first stumbling block she hit however was the topic of the current potion's master. "Professor Snape is…very skilled at his craft. However, and speaking delicately here, I will confess to you that he is at times…ill tempered."

"Ill tempered. Forgive me for saying so, but that sounds…ominous. And you have him teaching children?" Emma said skeptically.

Minerva grimaced. "I am Deputy Headmistress, this is true, and were it up to me…well, regardless, the current headmaster feels that the tradeoff with Severus—my apologies, Professor Snape—is worth the occasional hurt feelings amongst the students."

Now it was Emma's turn to grimace, "I will warn you Professor, if I agree to have Hermione go away with you to this school, I will have to insist that you ensure he behaves himself with her. She's had enough of bullies in her life," She said in a steely tone which took the Professor aback.

"I will certainly endeavour to do so, yes." McGonagall promised.

Emma continued to frown, "What about more…normal courses, english, sciences and maths, physical education?" Hermione made a face at that last one.

The Professor sighed. "I'm afraid we truly do not have courses for such things, though we do allow for certificates which will aid in procuring the necessary catch up work following Hogwarts should you need them." She confessed. "As for physical fitness. Well, we do have a sport which is played at Hogwarts, and the castle is rather large, this tends towards creating people who are not overweight.

"What sort of sport?" Emma prodded, curious now.

"It is called Quidditch, and while it is played on broomstick, a great deal of balance and dexterity is needed to ensure you can maneuver quickly while flying." The Professor relayed.

Hermione paled, "Flying?"

Emma sighed, "I do not think Hermione will be interested in that, she has a…phobia of heights."

The Professor nodded easily, smiling thinly at Hermione in encouragement. "That is alright, many feel the same, you would not be the first."

The girl subsided, still looking a touch green about the gills.

"I suppose this does bring us to the next topic, which really does touch on both of your remaining questions. Risks, in regards to joining us at Hogwarts or choosing not to join the magical community," McGonagall mused, causing the two Grangers to sit up and take interest again. "I would first like to say that Hogwarts is held to be one of the most secure locations in Magical Britain. So I hope you'll keep that in mind as we go forward."

However, there is a…matter which needs to be discussed." She said a touch delicately. "Your daughter is a witch. Which is to say she is a female, human magical, with all that entails. Now, I will say, that as far as the raw mechanics of gender and reproduction go, witches are exactly the same as any other woman."

Emma nodded understanding, and Hermione looked curious so Minerva pressed on. "It is when we come to the question of Magical and Emotional maturation that things become…a bit more complicated." She hated discussing this topic, but it needed to be done. "Let me first state this. Magic and emotion are linked. Perhaps you have noticed odd occurrences around your daughter when she was angry or otherwise upset?"

Emma winced, then nodded. "I have, though I thought perhaps they were coincidences or my imagination until now."

"Might I ask what sorts of things you've witnessed?" The Professor asked.

"Lights blowing out, things I thought unreachable finding their way into my daughters hands…" Emma said, before trailing off, there were undoubtedly more Minerva was certain but those were sufficient examples to make her point.

"Not at all uncommon," She reassured the woman. "Now, as I was saying, magic and emotion are linked, in fact many of the most powerful magics are fuelled entirely by the emotional state of the witch or wizard." She began, shifting to get more comfortable in her chair. "Now, we do not know why it occurs in Witches but not in Wizards, probably some 'fluke' of male versus female genetics or the flavour of our magics, but when a girl reaches the main phases of physical maturation, say between the ages of fourteen and nineteen, they begin to experience a…well we prefer to call it 'The Witches' Secret," She admitted, "Though that isn't to say that there are not wizards who are aware of it."

She pressed on, "Emotional energy, and by extension magic, begins to build up during this period, and if it is not released appropriately it can cause…complications."

Emma cocked her head at her, looking concerned now. "Complications?"

Minerva nodded, "The first phase of what we refer to as 'The Quickening', is a sort of magical overload if you will, and will manifest as a slight fever. Now, for the most part this phase will go unnoticed by even the person experiencing it." She continued, keeping an eye on the Granger's reactions thus far. "The second phase is a bit more severe, but also fairly unnoticeable as the symptoms may occur when a witch is angry or upset. Though when taken together with the fever one might begin to guess as to what is happening. Static-like sparks from their hair and fingers will become common."

Nods of understanding from the pair across from her. "The next phases are where it starts to get severe and are rather more obvious and potentially embarrassing." She cautioned. "In short a witch will begin to glow. First from her eyes when angry, then all over when it begins to reach criticality. While optical glowing does occur in some powerful wizards too when they get angry, it is endemic to being a witch during such times."

She grimaced, "Uncontrolled 'accidental' bouts of magic are common in this phase and can cause harm to both the witch herself and others around her. The final phase is the worst by far, and the point at which the Witch's body takes matters into its own hands as it were, in order to burn off the excess energy."

She saw the concerned looks in the pair across from her now, "Critical overload we call it. The fever will become extreme, and the uncontrolled bouts of magic become constant." She blushed a bit, thinking of what she had to discuss next. "Then…well, I don't like to say it, but if it reach this point lightning and sparks begin to shoot from one's…orifices until the excess is burned off."

The Granger girls blanched. "Y-you mean…" Hermione stammered.

McGonagall continued to blush herself, but nodded. "Yes Miss Granger, from both 'exits' down there as well."

Emma and Hermione winced so she continued. "Burns are a common injury from that phenomena, and if repeated too often can result in serious damage to a woman's ability to reproduce." Again the wincing.

Emma swallowed nervously now, "And this will be a risk between the ages of fourteen and nineteen?" She asked. "Is. There no. way to burn off this excess on your own? Is it something experience if she does not join the magical world?"

Minerva wobbled her head noncommittally. "There are ways to handle it yes, though we'll come to that in a moment. First I will say this, should you refuse to join the wizarding world, we would bind your magic and wipe your memory of this encounter." This caused both Grangers to pale. "Once bound, your magic will not threaten you with such outbursts, however you will experience more severe mood swings and menstrual cramping."

She resettled herself, preparing for the next hurdle in their conversation. "Now, how to handle such outbursts, there are several means. Most of them have one thing in common however. They require hm—sexual release," Minerva said delicately.

Emma flushed, "You mean—"

She nodded firmly, cutting the other woman off. "Yes, the act of orgasm. Or what the French so eloquently refer to as 'the little death."

She waited but no further comment was forthcoming, though Hermione was blushing bright red now. "The first method is quite simple, it requires a girl to bring herself to completion. It is by far the most common solution and is needed no more than once a day usually. Unless they happen to be a particularly powerful and emotional witch, in which case it may require more frequent handling during these years. However, this method becomes…problematic if they have allowed matters to get to a latter stage of The Quickening"

Emma cleared her throat, "So, you're saying my daughter would be required to masturbate at least once a day to keep this from happening?"

"Yes," was her short and succinct reply.

Emma looked to Hermione who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. "We'll discuss such things later darling…" She looked back to Minerva then, "And the other methods?"

She nodded, accepting the cue to continue. "Amongst more mature girls it occasionally happens that they will seek to bleed off this energy with a partner, usually a lover, whether male or female. However this method is understandably frowned upon with younger witches."

Here she paused to stare seriously at Hermione who nodded hurriedly in acceptance. Emma also nodded firmly. "Again that method is somewhat problematic when you are…"

"Firing lightning from your genitals?" Emma completed a touch dryly.

Minerva blushed slightly at the blunt statement, but nodded. "Yes, quite."

"So," She said, collecting herself. "There are three further methods. All of which are considered emergency measures. The first two are rather unpleasant, but much more effective for an emergency purge than the methods already discussed."

She grimaced again, thinking of the methods in question. "They are rather similar and require the aid of a licensed healer at Hogwarts. "You either take a potion or are put under a spell which will cause you to orgasm uncontrollably until the excess is burned off." She looked to Emma here. "I may not need to tell you this, but should you have numerous orgasms in rapid succession they can become rather…painful after a time. It often takes as many as fifteen to bring someone at criticality down to normal levels again."

Emma paled and flinched, and Minerva pressed on. "Which thankfully brings us to the last method. This method is rarely utilized at Hogwarts, and while more…pleasant, it is less timely and only utilized under controlled conditions in isolation." She met Emma's eyes again. "I will pose a question to you Missus Granger. What is something Witches are often stereotypically depicted doing in the mundane world?"

Emma frowned, thinking. "Er—riding broom, or dancing around a fire—"

She interrupted there, "The second one. In this case there is a ritualistic dance which must be performed naked while under the influence of mind altering potions. This is the only method which does not require orgasm, and is oft times considered rather enjoyable by young witches."

Emma shook her head, though there was a small smile on her lips. "Dancing around a fire naked while hallucinating. Sounds like a party." Her daughter giggled at her mother's irreverent tone.

"It often becomes such, yes." Minerva agreed, smiling slightly.

"Why is it so rarely utilized by Hogwarts? It sounds better than the other methods for the most part…" Emma offered.

McGonagall couldn't help the small smirk which tugged her lips. "Simply put? We rarely have enough girls suffering this issue at the same time to necessitate organizing one. Most *ahem*, 'take the matter in hand' themselves and never experience any issues."

"Understandable I suppose," Emma mused.

She nodded shortly in agreement, "Indeed. It helps that maintaining a stable…even keel with such things actually is proven to somewhat improve the growth of their magic through maturation."

Emma absorbed that, then snorted in amusement. "Masturbating your way to a better future." She noted dryly.

Minerva had to work hard to keep her features schooled. "Or at least to more magical power, yes."

After the amusement from that had died down, she continued. "There is however one…particular drawback to the methods which do not include coitus with a male."

Emma raised an eyebrow at her expectantly. "It involves the last, er—risk associated with being a witch and I'm afraid it is one which won't lessen or evaporate should your magic be bound Miss Granger…" She explained turning her attention to the girl in question.

There are, as with any society, a minority within the Wizarding World who will abuse their talents for gain."

Emma scowled. "Criminals…"

"And more," McGonagall concurred. "Dark Witches and Wizards. Who use evil and perverted branches of magic to get what they want. I shall not beat around the bush on this matter. Virgin witches are highly sought after by such people. Their unwilling sacrifice, usually of life as well as virtue, is utilized in some of the darkest rituals…"

She pressed on despite the worried looks she was receiving now. "While still a virgin your daughter will be a target for them, particularly if she allows herself to go through 'The Quickening' and reach criticality. At such a time she would be positively brimming with power, which would be highly sought after by such people."

Emma whitened, "So, if she gives up her virginity earlier…"

"The threat is reduced, yes." McGonagall confirmed. "Particularly if it becomes known she has done so."

Emma gave her a sharp look at that. "She won't be ostracized or criticized if she chooses to do so? My own family rejected me when I became pregnant with Hermione, because I was unmarried and because of my…job, at the time."

McGonagall felt the stirring of sympathy for the young woman across from her, it sounded like she'd led a hard life in the years since. "By and large, not, she won't be criticized for that. However there is always a portion of society which might try to take advantage of her sexually if they perceive her as willing."

Emma sighed, "True," then a small pause after which her eyes cut to the Professor. "You say that binding her magic would not protect her though? How so, if her magic is gone—"

Minerva shook her head sharply, "I did not say it would be gone. I said it would be bound. Just because it cannot manifest at her will or on accident does not mean it is not still present in her blood and soul."

Emma got it immediately. "So, if they knew she had magic, they'd still want her?"

The Professor nodded soberly. "Yes, and I'm afraid your daughter's name is already on numerous lists and in the public records vaults of the Ministry. It would not be hard for them to learn your name and to begin hunting you. This would further be complicated by the fact you'd have had your memories modified and would not be cognizant of the dangers."

She raised a hand to stall the no doubt pointed comments which would be coming her way at that. "Oh, precautions could be taken. I could implant the desire to flee and change your names when I modified your memories. The records would only know you by your birth or marital names, but it would effectively require you to, as you muggles say, live off the grid, in isolation. It is not unheard of for Dark Wizards to bespell non-magical authorities to gain access to confidential records."

Emma sighed and rubbed tiredly at her eyes. "So, really what you're saying is that it really is for the best that Hermione go to your school and join your world. At least there she can be protected."

Minerva nodded, smiling sadly. "In effect, yes. However I do not wish you to feel you have no choice. There are always options. Some nations have more or less active communities of magicals. As as valuable as your daughter's virtue and magic is to them, they may well consider a lone muggleborn not worth the effort of chasing. Especially if it takes you somewhere where the Aurors, our police forces, are more active. We would provide wards for your home regardless of your ultimate decision."

Emma continued to rub tiredly at her eyes before looking to the Professor again. "What would happen next if I were to agree that Hermione should join your society. If not necessarily your particular school?"

McGonagall felt a small spark of triumph, the mother—Emma—was at least partially accepting the reality of things now. "I would attempt to convince you that Hogwarts is the best choice of course. However, regardless of which school you ultimately chose, you would be taken either by myself or someone else, to our shopping district, Diagon Alley, and guided through procuring your supplies and setting up an account at Gringotts Wizarding Bank."

Emma snorted a bit at the pun inherent in the name of the district, then frowned. "How expensive would procuring supplies be? I'm sure you've noticed, but we are not exactly wealthy."

Minerva nodded soberly, trying not to allow her gaze to drift over their surroundings at that statement. "In this case Hermione being a muggleborn or at least a muggle raised half-blood would work in her favour. There really is a scholarship set aside for the students chosen by lottery. If she were Pureblood, or one of those who inherit a hereditary spot at Hogwarts, she would not qualify."

Emma leaned forward, "So her supplies would be payed for by this scholarship?" She asked in order to clarify.

"Within reason of course," The Professor agreed with a shrug. "While the school lists specify specific materials and quantities for the supplies, some students wish to shall we say…splurge on one thing or another."

Emma considered that. "Would there be enough money to procure a few more books to help her acclimatize in addition to whatever required reading material there is?"

She nodded as the girl perked up at the thought of more books. "There would," she agreed.

The young mother nodded, then sighed, glancing wistfully at her daughter. "How doon do I need to decide?"

Minerva frowned, "The sooner the better I'm afraid. The Ministry frowns on us allowing muggles…mundane people to go too long between being informed of the Magical World and choosing, lest they choose to do something…rash."

Emma nodded and considered that, before looking to Hermione. "Is this something you would want Hermione?"

McGonagall had expected an emphatic yes and excited chattering, after all what child was not excited after learning that magic was real and that they could wield it? So she was indeed surprised when Hermione looked thoughtful, before looking worriedly to her mother.

"What about you mum?" She asked quietly. "I don't like the thought of leaving you all alone here…"

Emma smiled sadly, "I'll manage, either way, but I want to know is, is this something you would want? Do you want to be a witch?"

Hermione worried her lip again, for a few moments. "I've always known I was different, for one reason or another. It would be nice to understand one of the main reasons behind it. There is so much to learn here—" She said, tapping the book McGonagall had given them. "Both about a part of the world few people get to see, and about myself."

There was silence for a time as they all digested that. "But you still hesitate?" Emma noted, and Hermione nodded her head.

"Dan was a wonderful Daddy, and I loved him a lot. I miss him still."

This non-sequitur threw McGonagall for a moment until Emma smiled wanly at her daughter. "But the others have mostly been disappointments, haven't they?"

Hermione stared nodding seriously, then hesitated. "Jenny is nice." She then got up and moved to hug her mother tightly. "I just don't want to see you get caught up with some loser when I'm not there to help you…"

Emma paused considering. "If it would make things easier on you. I'd promise not to date anyone you don't approve of first."

Hermione hesitated, pulling back. "But that wouldn't be fair either! You deserve someone you—"

Emma held up a hand stopping her. "Maybe, maybe not. But answer me this, if you did not have to worry about who I was having to deal with, would you want to go?"

Her daughter hesitated, then nodded. "Yes mum, I would." She finally admitted.

The mother sighed, but nodded and kissed her child on the forehead. "Then you let me worry about the rest. You can go to Hogwarts."

Hermione hugged her mother tightly again as Emma looked to McGonagall once more. "Alright, what's next then?" She rasped, sounding choked up.

Minerva smiled wanly at the woman, understanding how hard it was for the pair to do this. "If you formally agree to have your daughter attend Hogwarts. I will return here tomorrow to collect you and your daughter for that trip to Diagon Alley. After which time you can do as you please until it comes time for Hermione to get on the train for Hogwarts."

Emma blinked in surprise. "Train? Isn't that a bit…primitive, I mean you have magic, can't you just…teleport or something?"

The Professor suspected that someone who hadn't given this sort of talk before and hadn't spent time around Muggles would not know that word. "Adult witches and wizards can indeed 'apparate' as we call it, or utilize a portkey to reach their intended destination in such a fashion, however neither method is accessible to a less than trained witch or wizard." She shrugged here, "It is felt that the train, a relatively new addition to the traditions actually, adds a sort of sense of adventure and continuity to the trip to Hogwarts."

Emma hummed understanding. "Very well, we can do that I think. Though I'll have to call in and let my boss at the pub know I can't work tomorrow…" Minerva nodded acceptance, and Emma continued on. "Is there anything else you feel we need to know at this time?"

The Professor shook her head, "No, I believe anything else will be covered more or less as a matter of course during our excursion tomorrow. I shall have the final paperwork with me at the time."

"Then what time shall we expect you?" Emma asked pushing to her feet.

McGonagall did likewise, knowing her time there was coming to a close for that evening. "I think you should expect me at Eight O'Clock sharp."

Emma guided her back to the doorway. "Thank you for opening your home to me. It has been pleasant meeting you. I wish that all my meetings went so smoothly." McGonagall said with a wry look.

"I imagine some people are skeptical?" Emma noted with a smirk.

"They are," The Professor agreed. "More often than not they're afraid though. I've transfigured more frying pans and shotguns into whoopie cushions and fish than I care to count."

Emma shook her head, mostly in amusement. "Well, it was certainly interesting meeting you as well Professor. Time will tell I suppose as to whether or not I shall consider this meeting to have been a pleasure."

McGonagall nodded seriously, "Rest assured I shall do my best to ensure your daughter's safety and wellbeing while she is in my care."

Emma eyed her seriously, "I think I'll hold you to that," She said, sticking out her hand to the Professor who grasped it and shook.

As she was making her way back down the stairs from the apartment Minerva couldn't help but feel concern for both parent and child. This truly was a dreadful place to be forced to rear a child…

She sighed, hopefully she's just ensured that at least one of them has a brighter future thanks to her efforts that day.

* * *

 ***** Imagine the Alexandra Park Estates in London and you get an idea just what these look like. Then add a layer of dystopia to it and the image is complete.

 **Author's Note:** Again, I hope you enjoyed that and are suitably intrigued. As ever please review and such. It really helps my creative process!


	12. Witches' Secret Part 2

**Author's Note:** I Apologize for any extra periods thrown around in this story, my period button is malfunctioning a bit these days… Regardless, this is the last bit I had planned up for this story idea. Hope you enjoy it.

* * *

 **July. 31st. 2011**

Hermione had trouble sleeping that night, even when her mother invited her to share the bed in her room with her, and she cuddled into her mother's arms. A part of her suspected that the invitation was as much to comfort her as it was to comfort her mother.

So, it was perhaps not surprising that she was somewhat less than bright eyed and bushy tailed, even with the aid of a hot shower, when Professor McGonagall showed up the following morning.

Once again it was she who opened the door to meet the Professor. "Hello again Professor," She greeted as she allowed the woman inside the house. To her eyes the Professor was a tall, rather severe seeming woman with black hair which was just starting to run to grey around her temples.* Someone who did indeed smile, but always kept it contained, slight and small, as though taught not to by long experience.

"Hello again, Miss Granger. I have the parc—paperwork with me here today. Would you mind if we handled that first with your mother before being on our way today?" The Professor asked.

Hermione smiled at the woman, it was hard not to, not only was she excited about the day to come despite her tiredness, but the Professor interacted with her like she was an intelligent human being rather than as though she were a child incapable of understanding.

"Of course not Professor, she's just this way." She said, leading the woman to the kitchen again.

They spent the next twenty or so minutes reading and signing the appropriate permission and waiver forms. As well as those which would permit a team from Gringotts to provide wards for their home. Notably this was all signed with a quill on Parchment as opposed to with a pen on paper. Something which took some effort to get right.

Finally she and her mother found themselves locking up and then following the Professor down the stair and out of the apartment complex. McGonagall did something with her wand after peering around furtively for any who might be observing them, giving it a little surreptitious twirling motion.

"There, I've just erected a spell field which will prevent other mundane folk, aside from yourself Missus Granger, from noticing what we are about…" The Professor said, before leading the pair to the nearest street where they stopped.

Here the older woman turned to them once more, "While for most of your time as a Witch you will have access to any number of magical means of transportation, occasionally one finds oneself…stuck, without access to them for whatever reason, in such cases, so long as you have your wand, there is always one method open to you within the United Kingdom. The Knight Bus."

She stuck out her wand over the road and waited. It took a few moment, during which time Hermione wondered how long these things took, before suddenly there was a loud bang and a massive triple-decker bus screamed to a halt in front of them.

Hermione and her mother both stared at the massive purple monstrosity in stupefaction for a moment before a voice drew their attention back to what was in front of them.

"Look 'ere Ern' it's Professor McGonagall again!" Said a rather spotty young man in the doorway.

"Good morning to you Mister Shunpike, Mister Prang. I have two here with me for Diagon Alley this morning." The Professor said primly.

The driver chuckled, "Lordy, that's always strange 'earing that again. Mister Prang indeed!"

McGonagall allowed a small smile to twitch on her lips. "I may have gone through school with you Ernest, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten my manners."

Again the man chuckled, then eyed the pair with the Professor. "Showing a muggleborn into our world today are you Minerva?"

She nodded agreement, and he offered them a gap-toothed grin. "Consider your ride and their's gratis then. It's a momentous occasion after all!"

The Professor dipped her chin in acknowledgement, "My thank Mister Prang." She then guided the two Granger girls aboard before turning back to the Driver briefly. "If you'd allow us to get seated Mister Prang, before you get underway again, it'd be appreciated."

The other passengers, it had to be said, were a pretty sorry looking bunch. Most in patchy robes, or sleeping off what smelled to be a bad hangover in the seats towards the rear. Hermione and her mother got seated and McGonagall perched herself in the seat across the aisle from them.

"I'd recommend you hold tight, this…contraption is not precisely a smooth ride, but it gets the job done." McGonagall murmured to them.

Hermione promptly obeyed, getting a grip on the bar on the seat back in front of her.

And with a bang, they were off. She wasn't clear on just how the bus was doing what it was doing, but it appeared to be travelling at an appreciable portion of warp factor nine through the busy streets of London, careening wildly to and fro with every turn, all the while somehow miraculously avoiding hitting anything or being noticed.

Hermione was pretty sure that she and her mother must have been quite the sight by the time the bus came to its first stop. Pale, wide-eyed, white lipped, with hands gripping the rail so tightly she was surprised they hadn't bent it.

"Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries!" Stan shouted and Hermione managed to register a man carrying a severed limb getting off the bus through her shock.

She looked to Professor McGonagall who somehow managed to appear utterly unflustered by it all. "I suppose I should have mentioned Saint Mungo's, it is the primary hospital for our kind, and is located here in London. Not far from Piccadilly Circus." The Professor explained. "Of course, its entrance is hidden. Details on how to access it are in that book I gave you yesterday. Page five."

They managed to nod weakly in understanding before they were off again. She'd later suspect the journey was only a minute or so from there at most, but it felt like an eternity as the bus squealed around every turn and came within millimetres of smashing a woman with a stroller.

They finally, once again slammed to a stop and Stan stood, brushing himself off. "The Leaky Cauldron…Diagon Alley!" He called.

"This is our stop, if you will follow me." The Professor said.

With some coaxing they managed to pry their fingers from around the bar they were gripping and followed her off the bus. Hermione had never been so glad to be on solid ground before!

McGonagall waited patiently for a minute whilst they collected themselves. When it became clear that they'd both managed to do just that, she nodded. "Now, let me ask you Missus Granger—not you Miss Granger, your mother—do you see a pub bby the name of the Leaky Cauldron?"

Hermione wondered at first what the Professor was playing at, they were after all standing right in front of it, however her mother started looking around and shaking her head. "No, I can't say that I do…"

McGonagall smiled thinly. "That would be the muggle-repelling illusions and wards." She then looked to Hermione who was very curious now. "May I ask that you take your mother's hand Hermione and point it out to her?"

Hermione slipped her hand into her mother's and giving it a gentle squeeze then pointed to the building directly in front of them. "It's right here mum."

Her mother's eyes widened as she saw it then and the Professor stepped up to the door, holding it open for them.

It was then that Hermione and her mother stepped into perhaps the dingiest, darkest, most run down pub Hermione had ever had the misfortune of entering. Perhaps the Professor saw her expression as a small smile quirked the woman's lips when Hermione looked to her. "Believe it or not Miss Granger, this…atmosphere is one Tom Abbott, the proprietor, actively attempts to foster. It is far cleaner than it appears, however when he attempted to spruce the place up a few years back, the patrons complained rather bitterly."

Hermione made an 'ah' face and nodded understanding.

"That they did Professor McGonagall. That they did. Durned near chewed my ears off they did, with all their gripin'. But never let it be said that 'ol Tom doesn't listen to his customers, nor that he doesn't keep his place clean!" Said the bar tender, a rather rough but friendly looking man in an apron behind the counter who nodded in greeting to the Professor. Hermione ignored the sound of an engine behind her as she took in the rest of the establishment.

"Good morning to you Mister Abbott. Just showing one of the new students the world they've stepped into. We'll be heading through to the Alley soon." The Professor informed him.

He nodded and smiled as there was the tinkling of a bell behind them and Hermione turned. Only to find herself face to face, or rather face to belt buckle with the largest man she'd ever seen.

The man was gargantuan, easily three of so heads taller than Professor McGonagall or her mother. Harry and dressed in a large brownish overcoat. She couldn't help it, she took a step back before she spotted a boy, about her own age, standing beside the massive man.

The boy was small, and rather ragged looking, with messy black hair, and bright green eyes which blinked out at her from behind a pair of bent glasses. She also noticed a jagged scar upon his forehead.

"Ah, hello Hagird. The usual?" Tom greeted, smiling at the man.

"Ha, no, not today Tom. I'm on Hogwarts business!" The giant man proclaimed, clapping the boy on the shoulder, an action which appeared to nearly drive the poor lad to his knees.

"Ha, you're not the only one I—" Tom began, before stopping and blinking in shock as his eyes fell on the boy. To Hermione great surprise she saw that Professor McGonagall was staring at him in shock too.

"Is this—can this be—?" Tom murmured, before smiling. "Bless my soul," he said breathily. "Harry Potter…what an honour!"

He hurriedly bustled out from behind the counter and quite shockingly, tears in his eyes, seized the boy's hand and shook it heartily. "Welcome back, Mister Potter, welcome back!"

And the next moment, it seemed like almost everyone in the pub was crowding in around the boy, who was suddenly looking mighty worried at all the attention. A few of them managed to get a chance to shake hands with him. One witch even managed it twice! But then the Professor seemed to collect herself and waded into the throng. "That is quite enough!" She barked, in a voice Hermione suspected she'd be hearing a lot at school, particularly with troublesome students. "Everyone step back, give the boy some room!"

To Hermione's surprise they all obeyed immediately, stepping back to reveal a very nervous looking Harry. "Ah, Professor McGonagall. Good to be seein' you 'ere this morning'!" Hagrid greeted the woman.

The Professor knelt beside the boy putting a comforting hand on his shoulder as she straightened him out, before giving the enormous man an exasperated look. "Indeed, it appears we are here on similar missions today Hagrid." She said before standing and stepping back herself. "Am I to take it that you are here on the headmaster's orders to show Mister Potter through the alley?"

Hagrid nodded happily, "Tha's righ' Professor. An' who's this you have with you? A new witch is it? Oh, and 'er mother too!" He said noticing her mother who nodded in return.

He smiled down at Hermione, and despite his intimidating size she couldn't help but smile back at him. "Indeed it is, one of Mister Potter's year mates. Miss Granger, this is Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of the keys and grounds at Hogwarts. And this here with him, I'm sure you've heard, thanks to this lot, is Harry Potter."

"Hello," Harry greeted, giving a small wave and weak smile, she smiled shyly back at him.

"Hi, my name's Hermione." She said sticking out a hand to shake which he took.

She couldn't help but notice he really was very thin, and honestly dressed even worse than she was! At least her clothes fit.

McGonagall surveyed the pair of newcomers for a moment, before nodding briskly. "Am I right to assume that you are here for that…other matter Albus was mentioning as well?"

Hagrid beamed and nodded. Hermione noticed a man wearing a purple turban watching them with an unreadable expression from the corner. When he spotted her watching he smiled a touch shakily, a strange uncertain expression on his face, before he twitched and hurried from the room. Her attention was brought back to Hagrid almost immediately.

"'o course Professor. Couldn' forget about tha'!" He said.

McGonagall nodded looking worried for the first time since Hermione had met her. "Hm…" was all she said, perhaps the most inarticulate things she'd heard from the Professor so far. "Well, perhaps we might carry out our duties together this year. Besides, it might be…agreeable, for young Harry and Miss Granger to get to know each other. They will after all be attending the same school together for the next seven years."

Hagrid brightened, and nodded. Harry offered another shy smile to her which she returned. "Aye, tha' seems a splendid idea Professor."

The Professor bobbed her head then turned her eyes to the still lingering crowd. "I'm afraid we really must be going. I'm sure Mister Potter is grateful for all your well wishes, but he does have some rather important things to be seeing to today, hasn't he?" She stated rhetorically. This appeared to be the right thing to say as many in the crowd smiled before dispersing.

"Excellent, this way, if you please." She said before leading them over around the bar and down a side hallway to what appeared for all the world to be a dead end. It was simple, blank brick wall with a trash can propped up against it. "Remember," She stated, "From the trashcan, three up, two across." She instructed tapping her wand on each of the indicated bricks before standing back as the wall began to change. The wall shifted, bricks tumbling over each other as they all slid en masse to the sides, revealing the alley beyond.

There was only one word to describe her first vision of the Wizarding World proper. Magic! It was pure magic.

It was difficult to adequately describe the sights and sounds of Diagon Alley as they stepped forward into it, but Hermione heard her mother gasp beside her. "Oh my!"

"Welcome, Harry, Hermione, to Diagon Alley." The Professor said, for the first time allowing a broad smile to appear on her face as she observed their reactions.

Hermione caught Harry staring at something and followed his gaze to a shopfront nearby which appeared to be selling cauldrons!

 _Cauldrons—All Sizes—Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver—Self Stirring—Collapsible_ , read a sign hanging overhead.

"Yeah, you'll be needin' one o' them." Hagrid agree noticing where they were looking.

"Indeed, but they shall be needing their funds first." McGonagall stated firmly once again appearing stoic, prim and proper.

"True enough Professor! This way you lot." Hagrid said leading the way through the crowd. Hermione found herself wishing she had both the eyes and faculties necessary to take in more of the alley at once, and judging by his expression Harry heartily agreed.

She overheard one woman—witch she supposed—bemoaning the price of Dragon Liver. "Dragon Liver, Sixteen Sickles an ounce, they're mad!"

Hermione had to confess, there were two, no, three sights which held them up as they progressed down the alley.

The first, was of course the book shop, which she gazed longingly at as they passed. "You'll get to go in there soon enough darling," her mother promised, to which Hermione nodded sadly in agreement.

The next shop to stall them, was more of interest to Harry than to her. It appeared to sell nothing but brooms and sporting equipment of some variety. "Look—The new Nimbus Two Thousand—The fastest ever!" A gap toothed little child announced to his older sibling, who just shook his head at the kid.

"It's not the fastest, that probably goes to the thunderbolt, but Nimbus is the best you'll get outside of one of the teams." The elder sibling corrected the other.

The final store to catch both her and Harry's attention, past stores selling all manner and variety of strange and wondrous things, was a pet shop. Numerous animals, particularly owls and strange wide eyed cats, watched them in interest from the windows. It was here that McGonagall paused briefly.

"A post owl is a useful creature to have, especially if you hope to remain in easy contact while at school. That said, you are permitted one pet, whether it be an owl, a cat or a toad whilst at Hogwarts. Exceptions are occasionally made for a student to bring a rat." She finished with a sniff.

Hermione looked hopefully to her mother, she'd never had a pet before. Her mother paused, chewing her lip in thought. "I'll consider it Hermione, I promise."

That was something at least, Hermione told herself.

They then followed the Professor and Hagrid further along the alley only to be slightly surprised when the Bank suddenly came into sight. It was…a strange building. At once appearing like many a bank elsewhere, being tall and possessing a marble edifice, on the other hand it appeared distinctly off kilter, like many of the buildings in Diagon Alley really.

"Gringotts," The Professor said, almost unnecessarily before turning to the two children, looking stern. "Now, I shall draw your attention to three things before we go in. First, I will direct your attention to the beings guarding the front door and the script upon it…"

Hermione dutifully looked up the steps and caught her first glimpse of a non-human race. They were, short rangy beings in scaly black armour, with dark eyes which glinted out at them from within their helmets.

She stifled the desire to shudder at the sight of their fearsome appearance, before turning her attention to the script on the door.

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed_

 _Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

 _For those who take, but do not earn,_

 _Must pay most dearly in their turn,_

 _So if you seek beneath our floors_

 _A treasure that was never yours,_

 _Thief, you have been warned, beware_

 _Of finding more than treasure there._

The Professor had apparently noted their expressions as she nodded seriously. "Those my dears, are goblins. Gringotts is run by them and it is the primary access point to their subterranean kingdoms here in the United Kingdom. Do not let their inhuman appearance fool you. They are intelligent, cunning and clever beings, with a culture of their own." McGonagall informed them stoically. "They are amongst the finest ward crafters and trap makers in the magical world, and they _do not_ take Kindly to those who cross them."

The children and Hermione's mother all nodded brisk understanding and the Professor hummed in apparent satisfaction. "You must remember three things always when being within Gringotts. First, be polite. Courtesy is something Goblins do not often find themselves receiving. While they will seem curt and blunt to your eyes and mind they favour those who offer courtesy somewhat." She raised a hand to stall any comments. "Secondly, obey the laws of common sense whilst within their bank. Penalties for violence or thievery in particular can only be described as…gratuitous."

Judging by the very sharp and pointy weapons those guards were carrying Hermione could guess what such gratuities might include.

"Finally, remember this. Goblin Manufactured artifacts belong to the goblins, even after they have been duly paid for. They consider purchase more in terms of a rental agreement. Upon the death of the purchaser, they consider anything goblin made to be theirs, and in need of return. Refusal to adhere to this stricture has been the downfall of many a witch or wizard."

Here she paused, and her eyes flicked sideways. "Which I suppose brings me to one _other_ matter…" She pointed to a dimly lit side street which broke off from the main alley, with a mien of distaste.

"That, is Knockturn Alley. Under no circumstances should _any_ of you venture there." She said firmly, staring implacably at the three new comers with her. "Miss Granger, you recall I mentioned yesterday the sorts who would prey on you if they had the chance?"

Hermione nodded tentatively. "Dark Wizards…"

The Professor jerked her head in the approximation of a nod. "Indeed, that alley is home to a thriving black market, despite the Aurors best efforts to curtail it. As such it is a den of sorts for those elements of our society we wished did not exist." She looked pointedly to Hermione's mother here, "It would be the height of foolishness for _any_ of you to enter that area."

Her mother nodded firmly, "Understood."

The Professor turned away from the dark and forbidding side alley. "Very well, let us see to more pleasant things now." She said before leading the way up the bank's steps to the door.

One of the goblin guards straightened slightly before knocking on the door at their approach and stepped aside with a small jerky bow as the doors swung open to admit them into the bank.

It really was a grand sight inside, marble edifices and counters trimmed with much brass and gilt, all of it lit by shimmering crystal chandaliers. It was however strange to see goblins in passable business attire after seeing those which had been wearing armour. The fine three piece suits being a jarring departure from the strange scaled black metal war gear.

The Professor led them up to a counter where a goblin was running a clawed hand down a page on a ledger, before looking up at their approach.

"Professor McGonagall…" He greeted in a rasping gravely voice. "Here with this year's crop are you?"

She nodded stiffly, "Indeed, one to open a new account Master Gutripper, one to visit his vaults and I need to withdraw the usual apportionment from the Hogwarts scholarship fund."

He nodded seriously snapping the current ledger closed sharply. "Keys?" He asked.

"Oh, I know I've got it here somewhere?" Muttered Hagrid starting to pat himself down, while McGonagall quickly withdrew a key from her pocket. It took a minute, but Hagrid soon had another key on the counter beside it.

The goblin examined the keys, particularly focusing on the one from the Professor at first. "I shall have someone retrieve the scholarship funds for you Professor McGonagall." He agreed before looking to the other key which Hagrid had provided. "This seems to be in order. Though I will note it is generally preferable for the owner of the vault in question to hold the key…" He mused staring pointedly at Harry, who nodded jerkily.

"Ah, right. I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore. It's about you-know-what in vault you-know-which…" Hagrid said, a canny expression on his face. Or at least it was an expression she suspected Hagrid _believed_ was canny.

The goblin eyed Hagrid speculatively while the Professor just sighed, rolling her eyes. Hermione was left wondering just what in the world was going on. "Very well, I will have someone take you down to both vaults. But first, two matters…" The goblin said before turning his eyes to Harry once more. "Do you wish to speak with your account manager?"

Harry looked uncertain and glanced at Professor McGonagall for guidance. She shook her head. "Perhaps another time Harry, we have many things to attend to today after all."

Harry nodded, taking the key when Gutripper held it out to him.

The Goblin then looked to Hermione. "Am I right in my thinking that you are to be our new account holder?" She nodded nervously under his intense scrutiny, before he hummed thoughtfully. "We have a number of vaults available. A standard vault, which I shall assume this is, is free to any incoming muggleborn or muggle raised student, per treaty. First, a key though…"

They quickly ran through the process of linking a key to her, which involved her pricking her finger and smearing the blood on the key. She grimaced, eyeing the blood welling on her finger until Professor McGonagall healed it with a quick flick of her wand. She smiled gratefully at the witch.

The goblin worked with the key for a short time, before returning and handing it back to her, cleaned of blood. "Very good, do not loose that key Miss…" He trailed off allowing her the chance to introduce herself which she did, blushing at the realization she'd forgotten to do so.

"Granger, Hermione Granger." She said.

He nodded, "Miss Granger. Replacing a lost key comes at cost, so do hold onto that would you?" At her nod her offered what may have been the goblin equivalent of a small smile. "Good, now, do you have any funds you wish to convert or transfer into the account?"

Hermione predictably looked uncertainly to her mother, who sighed, nodding. "Can you withdraw funds from a muggle bank?" She asked.

He nodded, "We have the means to do so, yes."

Her mother pulled out a sheet from her purse and handed it over. "I'd like to arrange a transfer of one thousand pounds worth of funds into the new account."

Hermione blinked in shock at the amount, that was no small sum, especially for her mother! The goblin simply took the page with a small nod. "That comes out to approximately two hundred Galleons, which is the currency used in magical Britain, so you are aware."

Again her mother nodded, "May I ask for the details on that?"

"Of course. The smallest unit of currency currently in use by Wizarding Britain is the Knut a small bronze coin. There are 29 Knuts in every sickle, a silver coin, and there are 17 sickles in a galleon. The largest denomination we utilize and a gold coin.?"

Her mother gave the goblin an odd look, "Begging your pardon, but that's a bit of an awkward system to remember…"

The Goblin chuckled. "It is, but surprisingly it works. If it helps, remember that there are about 5 pounds to every galleon."

When it became obvious no further questions or comments were forthcoming the Goblin nodded sharply. "Very good, I'll now have someone take Mister Hagrid and Mister Potter down to the vaults, and will have someone retrieve the funds from the scholarship…"

He turned, leaving Hermione wondering just when he'd learned Harry's name. "Griphook?" He called, and another goblin approached. Gutripper spent about a minute conversing with him in a guttural, gravelly language she didn't recognize but assumed must be the goblin tongue.

The Goblin nodded after a bit and then looked to Harry and Hagrid. "This way," he said abruptly before leading them away and down a side passage.

It was close to twenty minutes later they returned, Hagrid noticeably looking a bit green, and Harry looking thoughtful. McGonagall approached Hagrid first, pulling him off to the side to have a hushed conversation Hermione couldn't catch. It seemed to involve a lot of sheepish looks from Hagrid and hand waving from the Professor. Finally the two Hogwarts staff returned, McGonagall looking a tad perturbed.

"Very well then, you may go for now Hagrid, we shall see you in a bit, but we'll be discussing this matter of pig tails later, now where shall we head first?" She asked, looking to the two students and her mother.

It was decided, after a bit of talk between the adults, that the best place to start would be with their uniforms which resulted in the Professor leading them to a store, _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_.

Madam Malkin it turned out was a squat, but smiling witch who favoured mauve robes. "Hogwarts dears?" She greeted them happily. "Got the lot here, had another lad in just a minute ago for a fitting, but he's just left."

Harry and Hermione spent the next half hour getting fitted for robes, an experience which involved a lot of getting measured by apparently self-guided tape measures and getting prodded here and there by one of Madam Malkin's employees.

In the end though, they both had a couple new sets of robes and clothes. Hermione would have preferred that they had a splash of colour, but she supposed black wasn't too offensive. When she voiced this opinion McGonagall and the Witch shared an amused look before they left the store.

"You'll get your colours once you're sorted into your house at Hogwarts my dear." The Professor promised, before stopping and considering. "Perhaps a short treat before we go on?" She mused.

To the children's delight she led them to an ice cream shop where they all indulged in some of the sugary confection.

"Ma'am, could you tell us a bit about the Houses at Hogwarts? You told me their names yesterday, but what's the difference between them?"

The Professor paused in her eating, looking thoughtful at the question. Harry, Hermione noticed, also looked up in interest. "There are four houses," She eventually ventured. "And you will be sorted into one of them. On the off chance that Harry has not heard about them from Hagrid I shall name them again, just in case. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin," she recited, with a slightly tone of distaste when referring to that last one.

"They each select for specific traits. Gryffindor, my own house, prefers those with a spark of nobility and honour in them, favouring the brave and yes, sometimes foolish, over others."

She paused, savouring a bite of her ice cream as she thought on the matter. "Then there is Hufflepuff, many would say that Hufflepuff accepts those that the other houses will not. This is true, so far as it goes, however they are preferably select for a number of other worthy traits. Namely, they seek those with a good work ethic, and who are loyal and kind above all else." She mused.

"Which brings us to Ravenclaw. They are the house of the erudite, which is to say, the learned and dutiful." She said, and Hermione had to say she liked the sound of the first three houses at least, they all sounded very appealing in their own ways.

"Finally, there is Slytherin," The Professor continued, "In ideal circumstances Slytherin is home to the cunning and ambitious, Merlin himself was a Slytherin. However I must say that these are in some ways, less than ideal times." She said, with a frown on her face now. "Cruelty and bias. Seem to rule in Slytherin these days, a legacy from a certain Dark Wizard's time among their ranks and unfortunately Professor Snape seems largely unable to curtail it entirely."

 _That_ house on the other hand, Hermione immediately filed under the 'do not want' category inside her head.

After that they mostly ate in peace, before spending another couple hours shopping happily. Hermione, of course, could have spent ages in Flourish and Blott's and suspect Harry could have as well judging by his expression whilst inside. They bought all manner of things from the other shops, scales and cauldrons, books and potion ingredients…

Finally as they exited the apothecary Professor McGonagall stopped to consider their next destination. "Next I suppose, shall be your wands. Then perhaps we might consider a potential pet or familiar for you." She said, before nodding decisively and leading them over to a rather shabby storefront.

Above the door in peeling gold letters was a sign, which read: _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 383 BC._ A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the window.

"Do not let the shop's appearance fool you. Garrick Ollivander is perhaps the finest wand crafter in the world, though I'm sure many elsewhere claim the same. He is however, the undisputed master of the craft here in Great Britain."

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they all filed inside, and it seemed to Hermione that it was a tiny, cramped sort of place, which left her with the strange notion that she'd just stepped into a very strict library, just from the solemn hush which lay heavily over the shop.

There, behind the counter, were rows upon rows of shelves, each piled high with simple boxes which she assumed contained wands.

Harry stood beside her, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck, while she had to fight the urge to do the same. Something here was making the hairs there prickle uncomfortably. Something about this place seemed to crackle with some unknown power.

"Good afternoon," Came a quiet voice, causing both children to jump. An old man had wandered out of the stacks and was now regarding them with wide pale eyes.

"Er—hello?" Harry stammered.

The man's eyes cut to him specifically then and he smiled. "Ah, yes. Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter."

It really was becoming disconcerting how many people recognized Harry on sight, despite the boy apparently having no idea who they were. She wondered just why that was, perhaps she'd ask Professor McGonagall later?

"You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." The wand crafter recited thoughtfully as he moved closer to the front counter, regarding Harry seriously. "Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it—It's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course…"

He stared at Harry for time, and flicked a finger at Harry's forehead. "Your scar…I'm sorry to day I sold the wand that did it," Ollivander said, and Hermione noticed the Professor stiffen somewhat off to the side.

"Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands…well, if I'd known then what that wand was going out into the world to do…" He murmured before giving himself a shake and stepping back. "Apologies, I do rather become caught up in such things these days."

He looked to the others in the room now. "Ah, Professor Minerva McGonagall. Fir, dragon heartstring core, nine and a half inches long, somewhat stiff. A magnificent wand for transfiguration, as you've proven again and again. It still treating you well?"

The Professor smiled wanly at him, "Hello Garrick. Yes, it is indeed."

He nodded, Then his eyes fell on her and her mother. "I do not recognize your mother, young miss. And judging by your manner of dress, both yours and hers, she is a muggle correct?"

Hermione nodded and he smiled inclining his head at her mother. "Which would make you a muggleborn or raised, correct?" He inquired.

Again she nodded, "Yes, sir."

He bobbed his head again at that, stepping back and fishing a tape measure out from under the counter, before stepping around it. "Now then, you two, which is going to be your wand arm?" He asked.

"I'm right handed…" Hermione ventured.

"Me too." Harry blurted a moment later.

Ollivander hummed thoughtfully and requested they raise their arms to shoulder height. They did so and he measured them accordingly. He then proceeded to measure any number of other, idiosyncratic distances across their bodies before nodding again.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance…" He began, musingly. "Unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, dragon heartstring, griffin feathers, merperson hair, troll whisker, basilisk facia…nundu quill…on and on the list goes." He said with a small smile.

"Never had the chance to work with a thunderbird feather though…" he huffed a wistful sigh then, "Perhaps someday…"

He shook himself from his reverie then, "No two wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another witch or wizard's wand!" He said disappearing into the stacks.

He returned a minute later with a pair of boxes in hand. "Try these, beechwood and Dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and Flexible for you Mister Potter, and as for you miss…" He said handing her a box in turn, then pausing while allowing her to introduce herself, which she did. "Miss Granger, I have a vine wood wand, ten and three quarter inches long, with a Dragon Heartstring core."

Harry grasped the offered wand as she dug her's out of the box. She felt a warm tingle travel up her arm immediately. "Well, go on then, give them a wave!" He instructed and she did so, feeling a warm wind rush around her, and energy crackle up her spine.

He smiled and nodded, "Ah, got it on the first try! Excellent, haven't managed that in quite a while! That wand should be an excellent fit for you Miss Granger. You are a passionate person judging by that wand, very goal driven, I can tell! A thing of balance between darkness and light. You are driven to a greater purpose." He mused, causing her to blush. "And you Mister Potter?"

Harry gave his a wave and a potted plant on the end of the counter caught fire. "No, no, definitely not!" The wand crafter cried before taking the wand back and bustling off into the stacks again.

It was. curious, though Harry met with failure after failure following each wand Ollivander gave him, the old man seemed to grow happier with each attempt. Harry on the other hand just appeared more and more nervous. "I'm sure there's a wand in here for you, Harry. Just you wait!" She encouraged him, earning a small grateful smile in return.

Ollivander returned then, this time looking a touch rueful. "Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere—I wonder, now—yes, why not — an unusual combination— holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand and for a moment Hermione fancied she saw the hairs on the back of his arm stand on end before settling. Harry waited until the wand maker nodded then gave the wand a wave.

There was a flash and little bird, red and ethereal as though made of fire and light burst from his wand and danced around the room with strange trilling cries before fading away.

"Oh, bravo!" The wand maker cried, "Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well…how curious…how very curious indeed." He murmured, in an almost wistful tone.

Hermione saw both her mother and the Professor smiling at them both.

"Sorry," Harry said uncertainly, "But _what's_ curious?"

Mister Ollivander fixed Harry with an unreadable look for a moment. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mister Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather—just one other. It is very curious indeed. That you should be destined for this wand when it's brother—why, its brother gave you that scar."

Pieces were beginning to fall into place for Hermione. It hadn't been stated outright thus far, but she'd suspected Harry's parents were dead for a while now. This talk of his scar and how Harry had received it led her to believe that Harry had been there when it had happened, perhaps he'd even seen their killer!

Ollivander continued unaware of her musings. "Yes, thirteen and half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, you remember? I think we might expect great things from you, Mister Potter. After all, He Who Must Not Be Named did great things too—terrible, yes, but great."

Hermione noticed her mother and Professor McGonagall sharing a look, and her own resolve to ask the teacher about Harry hardened. In the mean time though, it was time to pay for their wands. Then they could see about some pets!

* * *

Hermione wasn't so proud that she couldn't admit that thoughts of their next stop soon drove all concerns about just who Harry Potter was from her mind.

The pet store! She, like many other children her age had longed for a pet as long as she could remember. That she just _might_ be getting one today, was a _very_ pleasant surprise. She hurried into the store, followed closely by Harry who seemed equally eager to explore the shop.

She was so wrapped up in examining the various animals around the place that she didn't notice that her mother and Professor McGonagall didn't immediately follow them in.

It was then, as she bustled this way and that among the rows of enclosures holding potential pets that she saw him.

A cat, or rather a kitten, ginger and tubby in that way some kittens were. He was standing on his hind legs, forepaws pressed against the glass as he stared at her.

"Would you like to see anything up close?" The shopkeeper asked, given Hermione a slight start. Hermione nodded before indicating the cat in question.

"Could I see him?" She asked. She was fairly certain it was a he at any rate, judging by what she could see of his underside…

"Ah, that one eh? Got an eye for potential you do! A proper witch has a cat I always say, but so many want the convenience of an owl these days…" The shopkeeper muttered to herself. Hermione saw the cat get down and back up a bit before plopping down to sit and wait while the shopkeeper worked to open the enclosure.

The woman shot her a smile "He's a smart one is Crookshanks. Half-kneazle you see?"

"Kneazle?" Hermione asked.

The woman nodded happily as she bent down to pick up Crookshanks. "Magical breed of cat, very smart, magically so in fact. Dead good at detecting deception and falsehoods. Stick out like a sore thumb to muggles though, hence why we breed them with normal cats."

Hermione looked at the kitten now perched in the woman's hands. "Would you like to hold him?" The shopkeeper asked.

She nodded immediately and happily took the kitten off the woman's hands and held him against her chest in the crook of her arm, getting a small static shock from the little fuzzball as she examined him.

She gave him a good scratch behind the ear and he pressed his head into her hand.

"Oh, he likes you! Might be good as a familiar!" The woman gushed.

"So, pets and familiars aren't the same thing then?" Hermione asked.

The witch smiled, "Oh, goodness no. Pets are companions, right enough, and dead nice to have around, but familiars is useful you see? A proper familiar can help a witch or wizard focus their magic better. Handy for channeling the odd spell. Though I wouldn't recommend it with a cat. The magic makes their hair a bit wild!" The woman chortled.

Hermione considered the little fellow in her arms, who looked about ready to fall asleep.

"Find something Hermione?" Hermione looked up to see her mother approaching.

"Look mum, isn't he just the sweetest! He really seems to like me!" Hermione said happily. Her mother looked at the kitten and smiled.

"He certainly does. You think you might want him? I only ask because I thought you might have preferred an owl as they can carry post."

Crookshanks cracked his eyes open at her mother and gave her a sad look and a piteous mew. Her mother smiled at the cat, chuckling. "Don't think he likes that idea over much."

Professor McGonagall joined them a moment later. "If it helps Missus Granger, Hogwarts has an owlry where we keep the birds that students bring as well as a number of school owls. Your daughter would have access to owl post even if she truly prefers to have a cat instead."

Her mother eased at that revelation. "Well…I suppose we could keep a cat from getting into too much trouble. He the one you want then honey?"

Hermione nodded emphatically. After all why look around for better when you'd already found the best of the lot?

It was as they were paying at the counter, Harry having gotten a beautiful snowy owl, that Professor McGonagall addressed her. "I must compliment you on your sense of taste Miss Granger, he's a fine specimen. I'm sure he'll be a fine pet and familiar given some time."

They finished paying for Crookshanks then, and stepped back out into the alley.

"Now, I feel I must ask, do you believe that you could return home without assistance?" Professor McGonagall asked. At their questioning looks she explained. "I have some…matters to attend to with Mister Potter and Hagrid, I would stop by later today to ensure all your questions have been answered…"

Her mother cocked her head considering. "We're near charring cross road correct?" Hermione suspected her mother recognized the area from previous visits into the heart of London. McGonagall nodded. "Then we should be able to find our way home easily enough. Thank you for your assistance today."

The Professor smiled slightly, "It was a pleasure," She assured them. As Hermione and her mother started making their way back towards the Leaky Cauldron she heard the Professor speaking to Harry. "Now, Mister Potter, what was this Hagrid was saying about pig tails."

* * *

 ***** Note this description is in keeping with those in the books.

 **Author's Notes:** Hope you all enjoyed that! Please review as it helps my creative juices flow. Might be the last story idea for a while, might not too...Either way see you guys (and gals) later.


	13. Submitted Without Comment

**Author's Note:** This story was untitled as I did not desire to give away anything about the plot. I think you'll like what is hinted at here.

 **Warnings:** Violence and Gore.

* * *

 **Ministry Of Magic**

 **London, England**

 **June 21st 1976**

 **6:20 pm**

High Priestess Charity Wisp, current head of the United Kingdom's Great Coven, waited patiently, leaning slightly upon a finely carved, dark wooden cane, as the lift continued its descent into the deepest bowels of the Ministry of Magic.

She was not alone, the last two members of her coven were riding with her.

Dorea Potter née Black, stood on her right, a young woman, at least by the High Priestess' reckoning, not overly tall, but with a fine figure. Not someone she'd worked with before, though she had no issue with the younger witch. She had been joined to the coven this year in order to bind in the combined magics of the Great Alliance into the ritual they would soon be performing.

On her other side, by contrast, was an old friend of Charity's, whom she trusted implicitly. Griselda Marchbanks was surprisingly spry and youthful considering she was over a hundred years old, a benefit of being powerfully magical in nature. Indeed it was expected the old witch would live another thirty or forty years last she'd heard!

The lift came to a stop and a voice sounded from somewhere within the compartment. "Level Nine, Department of Mysteries." A cool female voice announced.

The brass grate slid aside allowing them to exit, finding themselves facing a number of other coven members who had arrived before them. She recognized them all of course. Augusta Longbottom, eldest member of the Longbottom Clan, a light family. Melania Black née MacMillan, wife of the head of the Black family, a name as dark as its alliance. Penelope Penrose, a neutral family head, and finally Danica Greengrass, wife to the head of House Greengrass, another neutral family.

Seven members, including herself and the two who had arrived with her. Perfect for a ritual circle which required a septagramatic layout. One witch per point of the star, dispersed around the circle's edge.

Her headcount and reflections were interrupted by the approach of the sole male in the room. An unspeakable by the name of Saul Algernon Croaker. He approached her cautiously, face unreadable, and arms folded in front of him, his hands concealed by the edges of his grey cloak's sleeves.

She strongly suspected that he had one hand on his wand. Saul was not a trusting sort these days, a sad departure from the lad she'd known in her youth. Desperate times bred hard people. It didn't help that their nation's enemies had many agents and spies amongst their people and he was the only unspeakable with a public identity, as head of the department.

He paused a few feet from her, withdrawing his hands from the depths of his sleeves before flicking a finger off to one side, causing a sparkling mist to descend from the ceiling.

She shivered slightly as the cool liquid hit her skin and evaporated without incident. She recognized the faint scent of it. Thief's Downfall. Just where Saul, or rather the Unspeakables, had managed to procure some of the precious goblin made potion she never knew, and he likely wasn't about to tell her. The potion was more valuable than gold. Breaking through illusions, polyjuice potion and even mind controlling enchantments as it did. The goblins did not part with it voluntarily, lest someone find a way to hoodwink it.

When nothing happened as a result of the mist coming in contact with those in the room Croaker bowed slightly at the waist. "High Priestess. Apologies for my rudeness, one can never be too careful." He intoned, sounding vaguely apologetic, but not all that sorry for his presumption.

She smiled thinly at him, inclining her chin at him in brief acknowledgement. She understood his reticence about the presence of her coven in his department. It really stuck in his craw that the Unspeakables were unable to do what her coven was being called forth to attempt.

For one thing, they lacked sufficient witches of power in their ranks to attempt the ritual. And for another, Ministry decree stipulated that the coven must be drawn from the general populace, not from the Ministry itself, lest the ritual be performed for reasons self serving to the Ministry's interests.

"Chief Unspeakable Croaker," She greeted formally. "I trust affairs are in order?"

He snorted derisively, "Of course they are, not like I haven't been doing this every year since I joined up or anything."

She took his acerbic tone with equanimity, merely smiling grimly in amusement, "Who else is in attendance this year?"

A grimace was her first clue, "Just the usual bigwigs. I had to deny the press access…again." He muttered irritably.

She snorted, shaking her head. "Fools, rituals are complicated enough as it is with official witnesses and participants, we hardly need more factors fouling the waters."

He gave her a wry look, "Preaching to the choir High Priestess."

He led her over to a doorway. "If you and the rest of the coven would step this way, I will see you to the ritual chamber." He said, not waiting for a reply before pulling the door open and stepping through into a room illuminated by sconces of blue fire.

The High Priestess could tell some of the coven were put off by his brusque manner, but she merely smirked at his affectation as she led the others into the room, murmuring softly to them in to maintain order among them.

Once they were all inside he closed the door and stepped into the centre of the room as the walls and doorways about them whirled pasted before slamming to a stop once again.

A small smile quirked his lips at the obvious discomfort a couple of the witches showed, before flicking a finger at the floor causing it to jolt slightly before there was the sensation of the room lowering itself a short distance. When it jolted to a stop one of the doors sprang open.

"After you," Croaker intoned, a touch sardonically.

She nodded and led the other witches from the room into a large open chamber.

The primary ritual chamber in the Department of Mysteries was, quite frankly both a work of art and a bit of a let down all at once. She was aware of some of what had gone into the construction of this chamber. Magi-reactive tile and marble, wards of all kinds and a couple metric tons of Silver for the central seal upon which the ritual circle was being inscribed. That this seal was crafted and enchanted in such a way as to be reusable was a wonder in and of itself. However on the whole the chamber appeared rather plain. Blank black walls and floors lit by those same blue light sconces arrayed around a fairly simple looking circle of silver in the centre of the room.

She turned her attention from the room itself to those within it after a moment spent doing a preliminary check as to the ritual circle's correctness. There were of course a small number of unspeakables puttering about the room, tinkering with this or that in preparation for the ritual.

Then of course was the Minister for Magic, Harold Minchum, a hard-liner and singularly unimpressive Minister overall. He'd only been in office for a year and already they could tell that much. His policies had done nothing to contain their enemies influence and only deepened the divide between pureblood and muggleborn.

Bartemius Crouch, a singularly unpleasant man, with a toothbrush moustache was present in his capacity as head of the DMLE, as was the Chief Warlock, Tiberius Ogden. At least Ogden was a pleasant enough sort.

Her reflection on the character of those present was interrupted by an unspeakable, hooded and cowled, approaching and offering her a ritual mask. Glancing about she noted that the other coven members were likewise being approached.

Her own mask was beautiful, relatively simple in its construction it was intaglioed silver with a white gold crest wreathing it like a halo of sorts.

"High Priestess. If you would take this mask and prepare your coven, we will begin the proceedings." The unspeakable murmured in a hushed, almost reverent tone. If pressed Charity Wisp could not have said whether or not the speaker was male or female, and their robes obscured any other clues that might be present.

She took the mask with a nod and brushed back the hood of her own robes before fitting the mask over her face. She could feel the mild sticking charm holding it to her face without the need for straps or adhesive.

The next few minutes were spent directing the coven members to their spots about the circle and instructing them to double check the work on the ritual circle. Most took the instructions without comment, however Griselda slipped in a muttered reprimand about knowing her job already. Though the small smile and her tone robbed it of any real bite.

The High Priestess then took her place at her position on one ritual circle's outer nexus points, then, after the others had taken their positions appropriately, she turned her attention to the Minister who was waiting expectantly nearby.

The unspeakables retreated to the edges of the room, save croaker who moved to stand next to the Minster and other officials.

Minister Minchum cleared his throat nervously and stepped forward. "Sonorous," he murmured, flicking his wand before regarding the room. "We are gathered here today for a most auspicious occasion." He announced. "We, the magical people of the United Kingdom of Great Britain, Scotland and Northern Ireland have convened a coven, on this, the summer solstice, to petition the Goddess Highest on behalf of our nation!"

He glanced about the room a touch uncertainly, but pressed on regardless. "On this solstice, like so many that have come before it, we approach the Goddess Highest that our endeavours in this coming year may be blessed. Safety, peace, security, this is what we request of her this year." He raised a hand towards her and met her eyes.

"High Priestess Wisp shall conduct these proceedings. High Priestess, if you will?"

She nodded, before turning and extending her hands to a waiting unspeakable who had approached once more during the speech. Grasping the metal handles of two lit torches. She took the torches and then curtsied in thanks as per the ritual.

If there was one thing a leader of a coven needed to know about rituals it was that one did not deviate from the accepted plan. Not one jot, if one wished the ritual to succeed, and not have it explode in their face.

She turned then to see Griselda and Dorea leading the others in igniting blue bell flames in their cupped hands, facing the centre of the circle. It had taken some doing to train them all to be able to cast that spell wandlessly.

Holding her arms, with torches still in hand at an angle from her body she began the ritual proper. "Goddess, we beseech thee, hear our words!" She cried out, before bringing the torches up sharply to crack their handles together causing sparks to fountain through the air.

With the sharp impact of the handles upon one another, the torches and blue bell flames suddenly flared before being extinguished all at once. She then cast the spent torches into the circle where they landed with a crash.

"Bring forth the sacrifices!" She called out, and turned again to find herself facing the unspeakable once more, being offered a broken goblin forged sword and a goodly handful of pure white wool.

Turning back to the circle she saw Griselda holding a splintered muggle rifle and a roll of freshly tanned leather. Dorea on the other side of the circle held two halves of a snapped wand and a clay jug full of milk. She and the other two witches had carefully selected their sacrifices for this moment. She was confident of the quality of them. She believed the Goddess would be pleased.

"War, and Harvest!" She shouted before tossing the broken blade into the circle, it landed with a crash but she didn't flinch. Griselda and Dorea did the same with the muggle weapon and the broken wand.

She then used wandless magic to levitate the wool above her right palm, clicking the fingers of her left, causing the wool to burn away in a flash of fiery magic.

Griselda tore the leather sharply with her hands and tossed it down, while Dorea spilled the milk onto the circle beneath her feet. As one they drew daggers from within their cloaks.

"Blood and Magic!" She called and sharply jerked the blade across the palm of her other hand, mirrored as she was by the other two witches before raising the wounded hand over the ritual circle allowing the blood to drip past her fingers onto the floor.

As the first drop of blood landed on the silver of the ritual seal the circle ignited in blue white fire. She smiled.

This was good. Some years they struggled to even make themselves heard by the Goddess. This year it seemed their members and sacrifices had been chosen well. "Goddess Highest," She cried, raising her hands before her, feeling her magic work to heal the wound on her palm. "She known as The Three Faced one, The Norns, The Morrigan, Hecate and so many other names, we beseech you, hear our calls!"

There was a moment of silence and she was about to repeat the ritualistic phrase again when there was a sudden flash within the circle and a crow soared out in a circle high above the ritual seal, yet staying within its confines..

Her smile widened, the Goddess' avatar had arrived. Good, now it was time to—

There was another flash and another, then yet more. Crows seeming to pop into existence to soar with their compatriot within the circle. Her smile flickered slightly, unnerved by the implications. More flashes, and more crows followed, soon a veritable storm of crows whirled through the air above the circle and she had to fight the urge to step back.

The Goddess' eyes were _very_ firmly upon them it seemed. Not always a good thing, despite their intention of catching her attention here tonight. The Goddess Highest was…not someone you took lightly.

A pause then a pair of flashes, brighter than those heralding the arrival of another crow and a pair of war hounds trotted out onto the floor, before sitting and surveying her stoically.

She felt her eyes widen in surprise as murmurs could be heard starting around the room. The crows circled tighter and tighter now, edging lower and lower until it was almost impossible to see the war hounds or to tell where one crow ended and another began.

And soon, it was not a murder of crows inhabiting the centre of the circle, it was a woman. Clad all in black, with raven hair and pale skin, a crown rested upon her brow and silvery breast plate across her chest, the woman stood head bowed for a moment before her eyes drifted up to meet the High Priestess' own.

Charity Wisp had to fight the urge to run now. The Goddess had not merely sent an avatar to convey her blessing upon the meeting. She'd chosen to show up herself!

High Priestess Wisp swallowed thickly, feeling a wave of horripilation raise the hairs on her arms and neck as a cold breeze whipped through the room.

There was a feeling, a notion really, of unspeakable age emanating from the woman despite her apparent youth. Any other time and she might have remarked upon it. However she stood, transfixed, by the Goddess' eyes.

They were not the eyes of a mortal woman. They were black, fathomless pits speckled with starlight and cold as the void.

A humourless smile quirked the Goddess' lips as she regarded her. "You have called, and I have answered." The Goddess said, a strange Irish lilt to her voice. Badb, the Goddess had chosen to appear in her guise as the War Goddess of the Morrigan.

Silence echoed around the room as the High Priestess struggled to figure out just what she was supposed to say now.

The Goddess smirked, but there was something off about it. Something not quite natural about the expression, as if she had to think about it to place it upon her face. Then she began to pace from the centre of the circle. She moved a few steps before there was a flash, and in her place stood a stooped crone, drenched in blood. The hounds were gone now, replaced by slavering wolves. Another few steps and in her place was a common shepherdess and the wolves were replaced with sheep dogs. Nemain and Macha, both aspects of the Morrigan.

She rolled to a stop and regarded the broken blade on the floor. "They were fine sacrifices. A broken blade of the Goblin-Kin, wool of a sheep…" Her voice was softer now. She turned and walked to the next set of sacrifices on the floor, pausing briefly to meet the eyes of each of the coven, flashing occasionally to a new form as she walked. A woman in a greek chiton, a stooped old woman wearing furs…The dogs kept pace with her transformations. A final flash as she stopped in front of Griselda, who admirably met her gaze unflinchingly. Something which couldn't be said for the rest of the coven.

She was dressed as a muggle now, a woman in an austere business suit with dark glasses, her hair drawn up in a tight bun behind her head. She crouched to pick up the splintered muggle rifle. It began to vibrate in her hands as she stood, before shattering apart, its components coming to hover in the air before her.

"Such clever ways men come up with to slaughter one another," She drawled in a southern American accent, before winking at Griselda.

The rifle repaired itself before she allowed it to drop to the floor with a clatter.

She continued her journey, becoming a viking shield maiden, then a winged woman wreathed in fire, before turning back into Badb as she stopped before Dorea. She looked down upon the spilt milk and broken wand, before ducking down to snatch up the wand fragments before standing again, weighing the bits of wood and magical core in her hands.

"I know just what sacrificing your father's old wand meant to you. He was a brave warrior, a good man. It was a kingly gift. Even for a Goddess." She murmured gently, a curious sympathetic tone in her voice.

The Goddess cocked her head considering before the splintered bits of wand rose into the air and the wand repaired itself, before coming to rest once more in the palm of her hand. She eyed it stoically before nimbly flipping it over so the tip was in her fingers and the hilt towards the witch. "Keep it. And blessings be upon your house, Dorea of House Potter."

The High Priestess stifled a gasp. Never in all her years had she heard of a sacrifice being returned. Dorea tentatively reached out and took it, bowing her head to the Goddess. My thanks, Goddess Highest."

The Goddess Highest smiled, then nodded before pacing away. She flashed rapidly between two forms before returning to the blood soaked crone, and the sympathetic look was lost. She smirked, and now there was a dangerous edge to it.

"It seems I require another sacrifice. However, I have something specific in mind." Nemain said, and the High Priestess couldn't help the shudder which came at the grating sound of the Goddess' voice.

Nevertheless she drew herself up as the Goddess drew even with her. "And what would you ask of us Milady?"

"Ask? I do not _ask_ for anything High Priestess…" The Goddess said scorn dripping from her lips. The High Priestess winced at her unintended gaff, but the Goddess just shrugged before shifting once more into the form of the American business woman.

"Someone here…has betrayed the trust placed in them," The Goddess said, a strange singsong cadence to her speech now. Again that smirk as shudders ran through all those present, and the High Priestess braced herself to attention at the accusation. The Goddess could not abide those who broke their oaths.

"Someone here…is a filthy, dirty, selfish little liar. A traitor if you will." The woman drawled, turning as she regarded the room. "Someone here ... needs to die."

There was a moment of silence before she whirled, hand outstretched as a yelp was heard and an unspeakable was hauled bodily across the ritual line, colliding with one of the coven members who was knocked to the ground with a cry. The ritual circle flared, then calmed in response to the intrusion.

The man was contorted, arms and legs spread wide from his body, despite his struggles, his wand in his fingers but held away from him pointed at the ceiling. As his hood fell away she could see the terror in the young man's eyes.

"Augustus Rookwood." The Goddess intoned, eyes seeming to pierce the man in a way a normal person's gaze could not. "You always were destined for vile things, no matter which way the tides of fate turned…"

She smirked at him, "Awfully young to be working as a spy don't you think?"

The High Priestess stared at him disbelievingly. He was indeed very young, barely out of Hogwarts. What was he doing working for the unspeakables?

"But my my, have you managed to get yourself into trouble young man." The Goddess mocked. The other unspeakables were now closing in around the circle, wands drawn. Mercifully none of them had pointed their wands at the Goddess.

Something silvery levitated from the depths of his cloak, sparkling slightly as the magics concealing it fell away. A pendant, a triangle, with a bisected circle within it…

The High Priestess couldn't help the angry hiss which passed her lips at that. Nor could several of the others from the sounds of things. They recognized that symbol. Hell, they all did. The sigil of the Deathly Hallows.

"Young Gellert certainly is ambitious isn't he? And what's this?" The Goddess asked, as a sharp spike of wood rose from the depths of his cloak. "Mistletoe. Awww, you know just how to break a girl's heart Augustus. You meant to try and kill me didn't you?" She said, her tone almost aggrieved as she toyed with him.

Another wince from the High Priestess. The young idiot surely didn't realize just what he's done. The Goddess' almost friendly smile evaporated as quickly as it had come and she flashed abruptly to the gore drenched crone.

"I do not take kindly to mortals attempting to kill me little whelp! Yes, your life shall do nicely to replace the wand in this ritual I should think." She rasped harshly at him as he struggled harder against her ephemeral grasp. "But…I am not without _some_ mercy. Tell me Augustus, what final words have you?"

The magic holding him released his head and he spat at her, causing many surrounding them to gasp in horror, even though his spittle failed to make contact with the Goddess. "You will die abomination, just as so many others of your kind have. If not by my hand then at Grindelwald's! Your time is over…"

Whatever else he was going to say was cut off as the magic holding him reasserted it grip on his head. The Goddess just smirked at him before sighing gustily as though she were a put upon parent. Finally a scowl replaced the expression and she clenched her outstretched hand and the little trinket crumpled into a tight little ball, which then ground down to a silvery dust with a screech.

" _All_ things die mortal. Even the stars. You, me, Grindelwald. We will die, all of us. But not today, not for me, and not at the hands of a pitiful little whelp like you. And if I have any say about it, not at your master's hand either." She said, dangerously.

The Goddess stalked towards him and lashed out, striking him in the chest with a clawed hand. The High Priestess gasped in horror as the deity stepped back, hands dripping with ichor and gore, the man's heart in her hand. "You hoped to kill me, instead I've killed you." The Goddess jeered, before giving a negligent wave causing his body to be catapulted from the circle to land with a meaty thud outside it.

She brought his heart to her mouth and took a bite from it. The High Priestess shuddered with revulsion and she heard someone start to heave behind her.

The Morrigan, The Norns, Hecate, the Goddess Highest…she was a being you crossed at your peril. Here in a place dedicated to her, was not the ground to consider betrayal of the kind Augustus had contemplated. For she was a bloodthirsty goddess when it suited her.

The Goddess swallowed her morsel before tossing the ruined heart aside to one of the wolves which snapped it up hungrily. Then, there was a flash and the macabre spectre she'd been moments before was replaced with Badb, the warrior queen, once more. No trace of the blood and gore to be seen anywhere save on the floor beneath her feet.

She paced back towards the High Priestess. "So sorry for the mess my dear. I do get so…riled up at these things, you understand?"

The High Priestess nodded, swallowing thickly, tasting bile in her mouth. "O-of course Milady."

The Goddess inclined her head at her. "Now then, I believe you called upon me for a purpose. A boon was it not? As it is every year. Tell me, what would the people of Wizarding Britain have of me this time? A bountiful harvest, a weapon, a blessing of fertility?"

The High Priestess swallowed nervously, she'd rehearsed her speech several times, but it clearly needed a bit of adjustment now. "Yes Goddess, we plead for protection. If this incident illustrates anything, it is that our enemies are closing in around us. We plead not that you will strike down our enemies in our place, but that you will give us the means by which to do so ourselves, that we might protect ourselves, our homes and our families."

It was very wise not to entreat the Goddess to destroy their enemies for them. The Goddess did not look kindly upon those who shirked their duties onto someone else. Who shied away from doing what was necessary in order to protect those they loved.

Badb nodded seriously, "A fine request."

She flashed to the form of the woman in a chiton, Hecate. "There are few things more noble than the desire to protect those you love. Yet, I fear, it is no easy thing you ask. Your foes are many, and cunning in mind and magic."

The High Priestess nodded agreement, they certainly were that.

The Goddess paused, "I will grant you this boon, I have no desire to see more of the faithful destroyed, but I will remind you of this. Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it, and I do not take back my gifts."

The Priestess felt a flutter of unease at that, but the Goddess flashed her a small reassuring smile, before turning back to the circle. "I will give you what you seek. Until we meet again…" She said, turning back into Badb briefly before dissolving into the storm of crows.

They whirled about the circle in greater and greater numbers, the dogs vanishing from sight…Then, a flash, illuminating the room from between the cloud of feathered forms, voices cried out and then the crows flashed away, one after the other until they were no more, and in their place? There was something…or rather _someone_ new in the circle.

There, crouched in a battle stance, in the centre of the circle, wand raised before him as a pair of women, one clutching a child, clambering to their feet behind him, was a man.

He was pale, with dark hair, she didn't have long to note this before he spoke, emerald eyes fixing on her own. "What the hell was that? Who the hell are you? And where the hell are we?"

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Well, there you go. I will warn you right now this is a story which I will very likely pursue. Possibly even in the near future. That said, I really REALLY hope you guys enjoyed this. Please review and let me know what you think of it!


	14. Chapter 1 (Part 2) AKA Blood MotherLily

**Author's Note:** This story was partially planned after the first Fantastic Beasts movie, but before any of the others. A such, some matters WILL NOT mesh entirely with canon revealed after the first movie. Thank the stars for that… I've been picking away at this chapter for months now. Only now do I feel like it's reached an acceptable length. Hope you enjoy it. As with my 'Witch/Wizard/Mechanic story, I will have a section below the story discussing some writing issues I'm facing.

* * *

Newt and Tina Scamander stared at the woman across from them in surprise. Finally Tina gave herself a shake. "I'm sorry, did you just say _you_ are Lily Potter?"

Newt winced at his wife's skepticism. It was obvious to him really, given his familiarity with his wife's mannerisms. He shot her a cautionary look, which she caught when she glanced his way. She paused, collecting herself, drawing herself up a bit at Lily's nod. "I'm sorry, I'm just confused, but how is that possible? It is widely believed that Lily Potter is dead."

The other woman smiled thinly, not taking her attention off of the boy in her arms. "I don't know, not truly. In fact I suspect I know only a little more than your husband does at present.

Tina looked questioningly to her husband who was nodding slowly. "When I entered the house the Obscurus was drawing blood generated from the wards, your blood I assume?" He got a small nod from Lily, who he was staring at intently, so he continued. "It was…sculpting her from it, pouring its magic into the creation." He paused, glancing at Tina. "The Obscurus was consumed in the process."

Tina frowned, "And how is _that_ possible?" She'd unfortunately been exposed to an Obscurus before, and had learned quite a bit about them from her husband. To say such a thing was unheard of would be a colossal understatement.

To her surprise it wasn't Newt who answered, it was Lily. "I sacrificed my life to anchor those wards around my son, Missus Scamander. In forcing Voldemort to kill me before he could go after my son, I poured everything I had into the enchantments I had woven around my child. My life, my magic, my soul…" She confessed.

Here she frowned and looked at them blankly while she thought on that. "Dumbledore found the protections when he examined my son after my death I suspect. He knew I'd crafted similar, but far less potent wards around my sister, and drew a false conclusion from it…"

At their curious expressions she sighed. "It's a long, sad story, one we do not have time for right now. Suffice it to say that the protections were, I believe, altered to protect this residence based on the familial relationship between my son and my sister."

She looked back down at her son. "When the Obscurus killed Dumbledore, it discovered the blood wards, and my son wanted nothing more than for me to be there for him…"

Newt let out a small gasp of understanding as something clicked for him and Tina looked to him expectantly. He bobbed his head, smiling a touch uncertainly. "An Obscurus is a force of primordial, visceral magic, it _exists_ to serve its host. For most abused and terrified children this means lashing out, as I suspect it did here…" he mused looking around himself at the ruined house.

"When it found the blood wards however, and what remained of his mother. It changed, trying to give young Harry exactly what he wanted. A parent to comfort him." Newt murmured, looking to the young boy and his mother speculatively. "The question is, how successful was it?"

Lily smiled sadly at him, "I don't know that Mister Scamander. I know that I _feel_ like Lily, and I believe I have all the right memories, but I can't honestly tell you who's soul it is that inhabits this body. Not for certain."

Newt nodded seriously, and opened his mouth to speculate further, but was cut off as a bright light flared into the room. The glowing form of a corporeal patronus, an American Pit Bull by the look of it, was now standing in the room with them.

The voice of Alastor Moody emanated from it's mouth, "I'm sure whatever it is you're discussing is very interesting Newt, but you might want to wrap things up quickly. The Minister and her lot are getting antsy. I'll try to hold them off you for a bit, but I'll be wanting to hear later just how it is that you're talking with a supposedly dead friend of mine."

The Pit Bull vanished.

"We're not going to the Ministry, not yet." Lily said, tone and gaze suddenly steely. At their surprised expressions she elaborated. "I might be convinced to go somewhere with you, but we're _not_ going to the Ministry," she said firmly, clutching her child tightly to her.

Tina cleared her throat carefully. "May I ask why not?"

The other woman snorted, "Because if we go there, without proof I am who I say I am, there is a good chance we won't be coming back out. What?" She said, derisively at the looks on their faces. "Do you think the Unspeakables would give up a chance to turn my son and I into their latest experiments under the current circumstances."

Newt winced, and began nodding, followed by Tina a moment later. The Unspeakables were not their favourite group within the Ministry. They were callous, and dangerously inquisitive at times. Never asking whether or not they _should_ do something just because they _could_.

Newt looked to his wife, grimacing slightly. "I tend to agree, you know what Croaker's lot can be like Tina. Harry's identity won't change that if they find out what has happened here. And without Dumbledore to curtail them…"

Tina nodded slowly, agreeing with the statement. "I not sure I entirely understand what has happened here. Despite the explanation…" Tina began, but held up a hand to stall any further conversation. "That said, this isn't the place to find out more. You're not wrong about the Unspeakables however…"

She paused considering. "Would you consent to coming to our home perhaps? It should be reasonably safe there…"

Lily frowned, "That might work, but I'd rather return to Potter Manor. It is almost certainly still secure, and there is the added benefit in that if the wards accept me it will help confirm my identity."

Newt shared a look with Tina. "We could try that, but I believe it'd still be necessary for us to accompany you. There are too many unanswered questions here to leave Harry alone in your care until we know more." Tina ventured eventually, her tone apologetic. She had no desire to quarrel with the woman over this when they were short on time.

Thankfully Lily nodded slowly, frowning slightly in thought. "That should be acceptable."

Newt smiled ruefully, pushing to his feet. "Well, if that is sorted, the question then becomes what do we tell the people waiting outside?"

Lily's lips quirked in a tired approximation of a smile. "Perhaps, but I can think of one further issue as well." At their questioning looks she explained. "What do we do about Dudley Dursley?"

* * *

Newt stepped out onto the porch, trying not to think about how he'd just, yet again, stepped over the body of his former headmaster. He was slightly surprised when he felt some water spatter against his face and looked up.

Above him, skulked sullen grey clouds, lit faintly by the dawn's early rays. It was starting to rain once more. He cast his eyes about him and noted the way the bloody stains on the pavement leading up to the door were slowly washing away.

He sighed, shaking his head before starting down the front steps onto the path and down towards the street. Alastor Moody was waiting for him and nodded as he approached. Unfortunately others had noticed his departure from the house and were bustling over.

"Newton, what can you tell us? We need to—" The Minister began before he raised his hands to stop her, Newt stepping back slightly before she could invade his personal space.

"The situation is in hand Minister, I'll have a report for you and the wizengamot shortly.

She frowned at being rebuffed so. "Newton—Mister Scamander, I need a report _now_. I need to be able to tell the public we have matters in hand."

Newt hid a grimace with a small duck of his head. He knew enough about such things to spot when someone was being pressured. And Minister Bagnold was showing all the telltales of that. He wondered just who it was that was applying that pressure.

He sighed, he knew that she wouldn't be leaving him alone until she got _something_ from him. He wouldn't meet her eyes, not unusual for him given his general discomfort around most people, but he was being particularly careful given the presence of Unspeakables.

"There was an obscurus here Minister Bagnold. There was, but now there is not." He said idly patting his briefcase. A careful misdirection. "Tina is still in there working to calm down the child—"

"And just what is this child's name Mister Scamander?" Murmured one of the Unspeakables, and he stilled very briefly. Thankfully Bagnold waved that off as immaterial to the matter at hand.

"That can wait. Am I to take it then that we can have our people get started on clean up?" She demanded, casting a nervous look about.

That explained some of her attitude then. She wished to get things handled before the muggles arrived in even greater numbers.

"Yes, I should think so Minister," he allowed.

She sagged slightly in relief. Newt was once again reminded just why he held her in such distaste. She held a clear bias against those without magic. Though her bias took a slightly different bent than it did with most. Where others looked upon muggles with scorn and a sense of their own superiority. She looked upon them with fear.

"Very good," She said to herself, before nodding more firmly. "I shall inform the necessary parties. When should we convene the wizengamot to hear your report Newton?"

He shrugged, annoyed slightly by her persistence. "I do not believe an emergency session shall be required. The matter is in hand as I said. The report shouldn't take more than a day or two to compile. Yes, perhaps two days from now…" he said, and smiled thinly at her. "I need to ensure the child is properly settled and the obscurus contained." Again that seemingly absent tapping on his briefcase. "I will need to speak more with the child to get all the details."

A beat of silence while those present absorbed that, "One of these days you'll have to allow us Unspeakables to take a look at the beasts…" The Unspeakable said staring at Newt intently.

Newt frowned, glaring at the cowled man. "No, I really don't think I shall."

Bagnold apparently sensed the tension as she chuckled weakly. "Yes, well, I think that is everything for now. Come along, let us leave Newton to his work—" She began.

"Before you go minister there are a couple other matters which need to be discussed," He interrupted, cringing slightly at the necessity of it.

"Oh?" She asked.

"I'm afraid I happened upon a dead wizard when entering the house…" He began, and those present stiffened, attention suddenly fully back on him. "I'm sorry to say that it was the chief warlock."

He really was sorry to say this actually, whatever his… _complicated_ relationship with the man had been, he had never wished him dead.

Bagnold blinked, then swore heartily. "Well, damn it. I suppose that explains why he hadn't shown himself yet." She sighed. "Thank you for informing me Newton. Once you have taken the child away from this place, the Aurors will deal with collecting the body."

She looked then to Crouch, who had thus far held his peace. He merely nodded agreement.

She turned on her heel and walked away, Unspeakables trailing along in her shadow, leaving Newt mildly irritated that he had not had a chance to relay the second matter. Still he hid his grimace well he thought as he looked to Crouch who gave him a questioning look.

"The _second_ matter I wished to discuss, is that the house was home to another child who was not present during affairs tonight. I suggest that you ensure he is properly cared for when he shows up."

He could have said more, but it would likely have revealed much about things he didn't think he should discuss with Crouch.

"Name?" Crouch asked brusquely.

"Dudley Dursley."

Crouch nodded, then turned away. "I'll tell the Aurors to keep an eye out for him." He said before walking away, leaving Newt wondering why this had happened twice in a row without people bidding him farewell.

Newt didn't bother to watch him leave too, shaking his head in consternation. He walked over to Moody who began casting privacy and detection spells at him as he approached. He quirked an eyebrow at the man.

"Can't be too careful with Unspeakables around lad." Moody began, before sighing when his sweep came up clear. He shook his grizzled grey head ruefully. For the first time Newt can recall, Mad Eye looked sad. "Damnit Albus, what were you doing?"

Newt understood, Mad Eye and Dumbledore had been friends for a long time. He patted the old auror consolingly on the shoulder. "It is a tragedy. He was a good man, but for now we have the living and a minor mystery to sort out…" He said a touch heartily.

His assertion that he was a 'good man' was a vast oversimplification of the man who was Albus Dumbledore. However, in times like these it didn't do to speak ill of the dead.

Mad Eye nodded, and moved to follow him as he led the way back towards the house. "I got Amelia to let me help you out. Care to explain why you didn't report our 'little anomaly' to them though?"

Newt grimaced. "She was concerned about the reactions of the Unspeakables. She had no desire to end up as one of their experiments, and I can't say I blame her."

They made their way back up to the doorway, where they cautiously stepped over Albus' body. Mad Eye paused eyeing the mortal coil of his long time friend, before sighing. "I'm sorry old friend." He murmured before following Newt further into the house.

They found Tina kneeling next to Lily and Harry. The young lad it seemed was asleep now, cradled in his mother's arms. "He wore himself out." She murmured, sniffing slightly and dashing away some tears, before turning her eyes to the newcomer. "Mad-Eye."

Moody eyed her stoically for a moment, before nodding. "Well, you recognize me, that's something I suppose. You look like a dead friend of mine," he said in his characteristically blunt manner, earning a sad nod from her. "Funny that, considering I helped bury her. Saw her body myself."

She smiled thinly, "Thank you for that. I'm more than willing to explain as best I can, but first why don't we get out of this house first?" She suggested.

He nodded, casting a disparaging eye over the wreckage. "Fair enough, but I'll be holding you to that explanation."

Tina helped Lily stand without unduly disturbing Harry. "Let's get out of here. I think Harry's spent enough time in this place. Potter Manor will be much better."

"Anything of his we need to collect before we go?" Tina asked.

Lily shook her head. "No, they gave him nothing more than they absolutely had to. Some castoff clothes were all he had. Forgive me if I don't particularly wish to bring them along."

The others grimaced at the implications of that, and nodded. "Very well, Tina, if you'd side along with Lily and her son to their home. Alastor and I will follow on in a moment. I assume you know the way?" He said, looking to Mad-Eye.

Alastor nodded shortly in agreement.

Tina cocked her head at them. "Are we sure the wards are down now?"

The gristly old auror nodded, "Aye lass, checked that over myself when that thing finished draining them. They're gone."

Newt's wife nodded, gently placing a hand on Lily's shoulder as the other woman prepared herself. "See you soon Newt."

Then, Lily turned on her heel and with a pop the three vanished.

Mad-Eye looked to Newt. "Ready to go, or was there something you wanted to talk about?"

The magizoologist nodded, before sighing. "Whatever the nature of that woman, I agree that I can't see the Unspeakables leaving her be. Nor can I see her involvement escaping notice for long…" He said before trailing off.

"Wondering what to do?" Mad-Eye asked.

Newt nodded, but Alastor just shrugged. "I don't know any better than you do lad. But I'm hoping she has some answers. Come on lad, I know the way, lets go hear what she has to say for herself."

Mad-Eye placed a hand on Newts shoulder before the pair disapparated, leaving the house now totally devoid of life.

* * *

Lily was busy chastising herself as Mad-Eye and Newt arrived with a crack in the middle of a country lane lined with trees. She should have known better she remonstrated herself, as she rocked her child. Harry had been _sleeping_. One did not apparate with a sleeping person. Poor Harry had awoken in the maelstrom of motion that was apparition and had started flailing in distress trying to regain his bearings as soon as they come out of it, before simply curling in on himself and sobbing.

"Shhh, shhh Harry, I'm sorry. I should have woken you up before we did that, mummy is sorry." She said tearfully, while cradling him. "Mummy's sorry. She's sorry, she didn't mean to scare you."

Harry's sobbing abated somewhat, but he remained closed off. She sighed and looked up at the new arrivals, feeling the tears tracking down her cheeks. "Mad-Eye, Mister Scamander." She greeted, as Tina patted her consolingly on the back.

Lily looked around, regaining her bearings before nodding towards a section of hedge next to a rather gnarled tree. "This way, the entrance is still concealed from when we went into hiding…" She explained, leading the way over to the tree and caressing one of the ancient branches. She allowed some of her magic to channel into the branch. "Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."

There was a shimmer and a gate and gate house seemed to grow out of the hedges, forcing them aside as it appeared, a path seeming to grow from beneath the grass as it finished.

She stepped out into the middle of the newly formed lane, still bouncing a bit to soothe her son. She eyed the gate, which was still sealed. She looked to Mad-Eye who was standing nearby and smiled wanly. "I'd hoped when I eventually returned here it would be with James beside me."

She grimaced a bit, feeling a swell of emotion at the thought of her dead husband. "Being disincorporated does a lot to numb the pain, as does time. Still…"

She paused considering. "Tina, would you mind taking Harry while the wards test me? Just in case…" Tina nodded and she handed off her son to the other woman who began to rock him as well.

Lily stepped up to the gate and touched the crest at the centre of it. She could feel the wards reaching out to her as she made contact with it. The metal cool to the touch. It was difficult to describe the questing sensation of the magic as it roved over her, awaiting her next actions. At felt both like a coiled serpent preparing to strike and similar to an old dog welcoming its masters home.

"I, Lily Marie, wife of House Potter do request entry to these, the lands of mine house. If I be not whom I claim, let the Potter magics take their due per the old ways." She said, and braced herself before speaking once more. "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." *****

The first part was ritual, a traditional request for entry by one of her position and circumstance. The magic of the wards would just her spirit to confirm her identity. Powerful magics put in place ages past.

The Potters might have been a light or grey family, but their wards were no more merciful to those who tried to deceive their way into their lands than those of the Blacks or Notts. Especially if one intended harm when doing so.

She didn't intend harm of course, but if she wasn't the real Lily Potter…she didn't know what would happen.

The second phrase was a password of sorts. Something which really spoke to the collective spirit of the Potter family in general.

There was a pause, and they all tensed waiting. Then, a small crackle of magic and a wave of magical energy cascaded over the gates. There was a clunk, and the lock disengaged allowing the gate to swing inwards. She huffed a sigh of relief. She was who she thought she was!

She turned to the others who were now staring at her. "Is that sufficient evidence I am who I claim?" She asked.

There was silence for a moment then Mad-Eye chuckled. "Aye lass, that should do for now. Wouldn't hurt to have the goblins confirm it, to make it nice and legal though."

Newt was shaking his head, though not in denial. "Oh dear, that really does complicate things even further doesn't it?" He mused as Lily took back her son from Tina.

Tina snorted at her husband's understatement. "It should suffice for now, yes Lady Potter. My apologies for my skepticism earlier."

Lily inclined her head at the woman. "Forgiven, it's not everyday you see the dead return to life," she noted with a rueful smile.

She turned and regarded the path leading up to the house which she could see faintly in the distance beneath the eaves of the trees lining the avenue. She stepped through the wards and turned to regard them as they slowly moved to follow. "Be it ever so humble, there is no place like home." She repeated. "If you mean those who dwell here no harm, please, be welcome."

The ritualistic words for allowing a guest through the wards.

Mad-Eye stepped forward first, and the wards allowed him to pass. Newt offered his wife his arm and she took it, before they stepped through as well, unhindered.

Lily turned, with a once again sleeping Harry in her arms and started down the path towards the house. The grounds lay in hushed silence around them, not that she trusted that impression, she was aware of some of what protected Potter Manor and its environs which Lily could only catch glimpses of through the trees and hedges lining the road.

The light on the horizon was greater now than when they had left Privet Drive, but not significantly so as yet, casting the house and lands thereabouts in shadowy twilight. Finally they came to the end of the avenue and the trees clear, allowing them both a full view of Potter Manor, and to meet the next challenge to their journey.

The manor itself was modest by the standard of country homes in England, but still was far larger than the homes of most of the common citizenry. A stone edifice with sections of carefully tended ivy and other vined flowering plants climbing the walls in places.

She could even see the carved wooden doors atop the steps. James had commissioned them not long after they got married. The door on the left had a stag carved into its surface, the right one, a doe.

Of course, reaching the doors would have to wait a bit, as the pair of Griffons laying on the door step had noted their approach, and were rising to their massive, clawed feet. She recognized the first of the pair by his marking. "Horus…" She greeted speaking carefully and clearly.

Horus took a running leap off the steps and was immediately airborne, gliding briefly to come to land before them. She heard Alastor swear, followed by a murmured remonstration from Newt.

The Imperial Griffin, a great beast larger in size than even a full grown bengal tiger stalked towards her, before coming to a stop a few feet away, sniffing the air about her. She waited patiently while he did so, allowing the other Griffin, one she did not recognize the time to pad down the steps to join its fellow.

Horus took another step forward, icy grey avian eyes regarding her carefully. Then Harry chose that time to shift in his mother's arms. Horus' eyes zeroed on the child in her arms and he stopped. He sniffed again, this time more carefully before seeming to nod to her and bowing in a manner similar to that of a hippogriff.. She smiled and offered up a hand to him as she continued to hold Harry on her hip. "Hello Horus, it's been some time."

Horus allowed her to pet him, scratching behind the ear tufts on his head.

"They're beautiful," Newt murmured, cautiously stepping up behind her. She glanced his way to see him bowing to the other griffin, which paused briefly before returning the gesture. "I'd heard the Potter lands were guarded by Griffins, I admit I hadn't credited it as anything more than rumour. Had I known…perhaps I would have visited?" Newt said, in an awed voice.

She smiled again as the others stepped forward introducing themselves. "You would have been most welcome. Dorea and Charlus had only good things to say about you."

He gently joined her in petting the Griffins, scratching behind the other's ears. It started to make an odd rolling noise she knew to be the Griffin equivalent of purring.

"Charlus and Dorea were good people. I had regretted not visiting them while they lived." Newt said.

She remembered James' parents wanly, it had been very sad when they had passed. Dragon Pox. It was one of those diseases which could strike down even those who had survived it once before as Dorea had. The means of innoculating a person against it were only effective if you'd not had it before. She was grateful she had sprung for Harry's innoculations before they'd gone into hiding.

"Okay Horus, you and your friend need to let us through now. We need to get Harry inside, he's had a bad day." Lily said gently, earning a small trilling growl from the the griffins as they stepped aside.

She led the way up the steps to the doors, Newt only reluctantly trailing after them, casting many a long glance back at the beasts, who watched them go. She ran a hand over the carved stag on the door. "I'm so sorry James…" She murmured, as the others waited patiently, before moving her hand to the handle and pushing open the door.

It swung open on well maintained hinges. She stepped through and the others followed. Mad-Eye was closest behind her, but stopped to close the door behind the others. She stood staring at the entry hall of the Manor she'd once called home.

The glass ceiling overhead letting in the faint light of morning. The dust sheets over everything. Well… _almost_ everything.

There was a statue standing in the centre at the far end of the hall between the staircases leading up into the wings. It depicted a wizard, one James had claimed was a Potter who had been one of Merlin's companions.

At its feet, propped up against the statue, sitting amongst a small constellation of floating candles was a large photograph of their family in a wooden frame. Arrayed around it were dozens of smaller pictures, frameless each depicting James, his parents, her and her parents, the marauders and finally little Harry.

Just beneath the little shrine, in a small silver bowl, were gathered an odd assortment of things. A coin or two, a ribbon, a small but finely crafted silver letter opener, an auror's badge, a Lily flower and finally an embroidered crest, the Potter coat-of-arms.

And just like that she knew who had made this little shrine. She recognized the ribbon and the silver letter opener. This shrine had been made by the Potter Elves. She'd given that ribbon to her lady's elf as a gift.

She paused as a sound off to the side drew her eyes away from the little shrine. There, creeping out from behind one of the pillars which lined the furthest wall of the entrance hall, was an elf.

"Who bes entering the home of Tinker's Master and Mistress? Auror Moody, what yous be doing here?" The little elf asked and Lily felt a small gasp escape her lips. It was Tinker, her personal elf.

"Tink?" The name slipped past her lips almost unbidden.

The elf's eyes swivelled to her before widening. "Mistress Lily?" She breathed, taking a tentative step forward. "You—you cant's be Mistress can you? Tinker buried you with Mister Moody! But—yous be heres. How?"

Lily smiled fondly at the little elf. "That's a long story Tink. It really is me. The wards recognized me."

Tinker looked uncertain. "Mistress…Mistress _is_ Mistress, bonds tells me sos." Tinker murmured, absently tapping at a point on her chest over her heart, burgeoning hope in her voice and awe in her face.

Then her eyes fell on the child in Lily's arms. Is…is that little masters Harry?"

Lily smiled. Tinker had been over the moon when Harry had been born. Almost as though he were her own. She nodded. "It is," She knelt and Tinker hurried forward, hoping for a better look at him.

"Ohs, but he is being so small. Harry has not been eating well!" Tinker groaned, tugging at her ears. Lily stifled a frown at that, thinking on just why that was.

"No, he hasn't Tink. The people who were…who he was living with, while I was gone. They were not doing a good job, I'm going to need your help to get him back to normal."

Tinker nodded firmly. "Tinker bes happy to help!"

Lily smiled and pulled Tinker into a one armed hug, causing the elf to squeak slightly, before she settles into it making a happy mumbling sound. Eventually she had to back away though, and looked to the others who were waiting patiently for them to finish getting reacquainted.

"Ohs, but Tinkers bes very sorry. She is being very rude. Hows might Tinker be helping the Lady Potter's guests?"

Lily smirked in amusement at Tinker, before frowning slightly as she considered what to do next. She looked worriedly to her guests. "I think the first thing I need to do is get Harry to bed Tinker. Then we'll call for a healer to come take a look at him. Does that sound good?" She asked, looking to Newt and Tina who both nodded firmly.

"Yes, we really do need to be checking up on young Harry's wellbeing," Newt agreed.

Tinker nodded, causing her eyes to wag a bit. "Tinker be waking the others, wes will have the main bedroom ready shortly," she promised, getting a determined look. "Then Tinker will bring a supply of potions for the healer."

Lily smiled again, "Thank you Tink, you're the best!"

Tinker blushed at the praise. "Thank you Mistress Lily."

She clicked her fingers and popped away. Lily turned to the others. "Come, the bedroom is this way."

The others followed her up the stairs and along a corridor. Lily tried not to think on how uncomfortably silent the house is without the rest of the Potter family. It felt like a tomb.

They arrived at the bedroom in time to see Tinker and another house elf finishing up preparing the bed. "Thank you Tinker, Tot," Lily greeted the pair, recognizing the other elf, who quivered with excitement before bowing and popping away.

Lily lay Harry on the bed and stepped back. "We'll need a healer, and we'll need someone to go get them."

Tina nodded, "I can handle that. Assuming you're comfortable with Mad-Eye and Newt for company…"

The other woman nodded, "They'll be fine. If at all possible, I'd like to request Andromeda Tonks, she should be a healer at Saint Mungos."

"I'll ask for her. Anything else?" Tina asked.

Lily shook her head and Tina kissed Newt on the cheek, before nodding briskly to Mad-Eye and hurrying out.

Mad-Eye began to pace, as much as was possible with his artificial leg. While Lily continued to kneel beside the bed, gently running her hand through her son's hair. "I assume you wish to hold off on that explanation until Andromeda gets here lass?" He said.

She nodded, "Yes, simpler to explain it all once. I confess I don't understand all of it myself." He inclined his head in understanding, and returned to pacing, his magical eye darting this was and that as it surveilled the house closely.

It was a few minutes before Tinker popped in again. "Mistress, Auror Scamander and Healer Tonks bes at the gate. They request permission for the healer to enters through the wards."

Lily nodded, once again murmuring the pass phrase aloud, knowing it would be enough to grant them access. Tinker nodded, then popped away again. Lily noticed that a couple other elves had snuck into the room to peer at them in awe.

A minute later they heard the sound of approaching footsteps in the hall. Andromeda bustled into the room ahead of Tina, stopping when she spotted Lily. "My gods, she wasn't kidding, I mean—she told me what to expect, but I still wasn't sure." She stammered.

Lily just smiled, and pushed to her feet before pacing over to Andromeda and pulling the other woman into a hug. "It's great to see you again Andy, and I'll tell you everything about how this all came about. I promise, but first I need you to look over Harry."

She indicated the bed with a nod, and Andromeda's eyes widened upon seeing the sleeping boy there. "He's so small, I—"

Andromeda shook that off and hurried forward drawing her wand. "I know a good deal of what you'll find Andy, so be prepared. He was in Petunia's not so loving care until an hour or so ago."

Andromeda paused mid cast and stared at her. "Petunia? Your sister? Dumbledore placed him with _Petunia_?" She asked, outrage clear on her face. Lily had spoken with her at length about her broken relationship with her sister before.

Andromeda shook that off and started casting, a determined look on her face. Runic sigils began drawing themselves in the air above Harry's sleeping form. Lily didn't look at them, she knew most of what they'd day anyways.

Finally, after a minute or so Andromeda sighed and allowed the diagnostic sigils to fade. "He's poorly off, but nothing I can't fix given time. He's stable enough for now, though I do detect a couple anomalies on him."

Lily glanced at her and inclined her head, indicating Andromeda should explain. "The first is that there is a lingering residue of something, not dark per se, but powerful, I don't recognize its signature off the top of my head."

Lily nodded, and sniffed a bit, feeling some wetness welling in her eyes again, before shaking off her misery irritably and explaining. "That may have something to do with the fact that as recently as half an hour ago Harry was an Obscurial."

Andromeda's eyes widened in shock and an appalled look graced her face. Lily nodded soberly. "Petunia won't be hurting anyone ever again, Andy. Nor will her husband or sister-in-law." She paused, nodding to Newt. "Mister Scamander here can testify that the Obscurus is gone now though."

Andromeda gave a start, noticing Newt there for the first time. "Ah, Mister Scamander! My apologies, I didn't see you there."

Newt smiled crookedly at her, if not a bit sadly too. "It is no problem, and I can indeed testify to the Obscurus' absence, though I admit it's…removal, was highly atypical."

Andromeda nodded, and Lily looked to her again. "And the other anomaly Andy?"

The healer gave a small start. "Ah, yes, well there's a dark residue around his curse scar, very dark. I'm not sure what it means, and frankly I'm disinclined to go poking at it if he's survived this long with it attached like that."

Lily cocked her head at the woman curiously, so Andromeda explained. "Some dark magic reacts adversely to being prodded, even with diagnostic spells. In his current state I feel it would be better to leave it be for the moment. Until he's healthy and we can get a good curse breaker to take a look at it."

Lily nodded understanding, then sighed. "I suppose I owe you all a better explanation now," she said, looking to Mad-Eye and Andromeda. She steeled herself and continued.

"What do you know about the Fidelius charm and blood magic?"

* * *

 ***** Christian Bible, King James Version, New Testament, John 15:13.

 **Author's Note:** Alright, so here's the deal, while I can come up with new story ideas like crazy lately, I've been struggling to put one sentence in front of another. I'm honestly not certain what is causing all this. Bad writing habits? My depression and anxiety issues? Burn out? No idea. So it is with a heavy heart I put out this warning, if this writing slump I'm in doesn't let up soon I may need to consider taking a serious break from writing. Put some distance between myself and writing in general until I'm desperate to write again and see what happens. I really do hope my ability to write properly returns soon.

Thank you very much for all the support from the readers. But extra thanks goes to my various betas. Temporal Knight, Volksbrot, twilliams1797, zcnk, mordreek, howinmadhowie and bearmauls (from all those years ago). I'd also like to thank Q Elwyn D for the help with bouncing new story ideas recently.


	15. Run For It!

**A/N:** This story is _partially_ inspired by Bobmin's: Power of the Press and Lord Vishnu's: When Fate Intervened. As such credit where it's due to those two.

 **A/N 2:** Also I shifted the timeline a bit up to 2014. Helps if I want to use more recent references or want to have them run afoul of the muggle world. I actually planned this story out a while ago, then got distracted by other ideas. Just a heads up. I had someone look at the plan for this but haven't had any beta assistance with it after that. I just felt it wasn't really necessary given it's plot bunny status.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 **Hogwarts, Great Hall, Halloween Night 2014…**

Harry was worried, he'd been waiting all day for something to go wrong. Something _always_ went wrong on Halloween after all. He couldn't remember _ever_ having a good Halloween while at the Dursleys, and things hadn't improved since coming to Hogwarts. If anything it had gotten worse.

First year a possessed teacher had allowed a troll into the school. Second year, it had been on Halloween the first petrification by Basilisk had occurred. Third year, his somewhat deranged God Father had attempted to break into the Gryffindor dormitory. Using a knife…

Considering all that, Harry was not at all happy that it was Halloween. Delicious feast or no. He had reason to suspect that something else was about to go wrong. So Harry was bracing himself as the Goblet of Fire began its work.

He was shaken from his reverie by a loud voice calling out across the hall. "The champion for Durmstrang," Dumbledore began. "Will be Viktor Krum!"

There was a great deal of cheering at that. "No surprise there!" Ron said smugly, clapping spastically for the Bulgarian seeker as he rose from his seat and proceeded to the chamber set aside for the champions.

It certainly seemed a popular choice, the students from Durmstrang appeared nearly universally pleased and most of the Hogwarts students were excited.

The Goblet of Fire's flame turned red once more. Harry offered a silent prayer, to whoever or whatever might be listening, that his name wouldn't come out of the goblet. Today hadn't been too bad all things considered, he _really_ didn't want it to turn sour now.

Actually he'd normally be fairly pleased with his day thus far, however, just the fact it was Halloween had cast a pall over it all.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is…Fleur Delacour," Harry was polite enough to cheer with everyone else despite his personal disquiet. Apparently some of the girl's fellow students didn't feel the same as some were, rather dramatically, going to bits over not being selected.

Harry blotted out the majority of the celebration this time, bracing himself for what he feared was next. He knew, logically, that his apathy for Halloween seemed paranoid and superstitious, but he couldn't help but fear it.

He did _NOT_ want to be involved in this tournament and had avoided the Goblet like it had the plague. He knew he should be safe, he was under age after all, but after everything Hermione had learned about the tournament…The death tolls, the barbarity of the tasks…not to mention how little a thousand galleons is objectively. No one remembered the champions anyways.

Hermione's rather loud recitation of these facts had dissuaded many in Gryffindor from entering in the first place. They were brace, not stupid…at least, most of them weren't. He suspected the twins did it more for a lark than anything.

"The champion for Hogwarts is…Cedric Diggory!" Dumbledore announced, drawing Harry back to reality. He was relieved, it seemed that for once Halloween might actually be reasonable. It turned out Sirius and Remus had no cause to worry—

This feeling evaporated as the flames in the goblet once more turned red.

Oh no … no, no, no … please God—Merlin… No! His mind chattered nonsensically, as an unnatural hush fell over the hall. A tongue of flame rose from the goblet with a scrap of parchment atop it.

Dumbledore's hand snaked out and snatched the piece of parchment. "Harry Potter," He called after a moment, and Harry's fear turned to fury.

A beat of silence followed, then Dumbledore cleared his throat and spoke again. "Harry Potter!" He repeated.

Harry absently got to his feet, and felt a gentle shove, turning to stare incredulously at Hermione. She winced, but her gaze cut over to Dumbledore and she nodded pointedly. Harry glanced next to Ron who was glaring furiously. Something told him Ron was going to be a real arse about this.

He turned back to Dumbledore, whose eyes were doing that infernal twinkling thing again. Suddenly, he knew, _knew_ , that Dumbledore had been expecting this to happen. Knew that Dumbledore had been allowing all the things he's been through to occur.

He was furious now, his feelings of rage had suddenly turned to stinging cold and he froze, having stepped away from the table.

"Harry, my boy, will you please wait for me in the back room with the other champions?" The headmaster said.

Harry couldn't help it, the next words tripped past his lips before he even recalled thinking them. "No," Harry said tonelessly.

Dumbledore blinked in surprise, then frowned slightly. "I'm sorry?"

Harry felt something impact on the shields tied to the pendant around his neck, something he'd acquired over the summer from Sirius and Remus. He'd been studying occlumency at their behest, but his own shields weren't ever going to be up to par in time for school.

A small flicker of amusement flashed through him and he smirked coldly at the Headmaster who now looked confused, likely surprised to find his legilmency probe repelled. "I said no Headmaster," He said enunciating clearly. "I did not enter this tournament. I have no _desire_ to participate in this face. I'm confident that I'm not legally permitted to be involved in the tournament in the first place."

A murmur swept through the hall, but Harry ignored it. He wasn't really surprised when Ludo Bagman, washed up beater extraordinaire turned to Dumbledore and started stammering. "The boy has to compete Dumbledore! The Goblet is a magically binding contract! You know what will happen if he doesn't compete!"

Harry didn't bother looking at the man again, simply staring into those twinkling blue eyes. He felt another impact on the shield, but didn't even blink.

"Alas, I'm afraid Ludo is correct my boy. You really don't have a choice. I'm afraid my hands are tied in this matter," The headmaster explained, in what Harry assumed was meant to be an apologetic voice.

Harry grimaced, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He was trying to rein in his temper, it wasn't easy. "And what would happen if I refuse to compete anyway and break this 'contract?" Harry asked carefully.

Dumbledore frowned again, no doubt confused as to why Harry was being so difficult in this matter. "It pains me to say this Harry, but you simply can't refuse. The consequences to yourself would be indisputably severe."

Harry shook his head disbelievingly at the old man, who he had to say didn't sound _pained_ in the slightest. "Severe how?"

Harry wanted the consequences clear to everyone who heard this. Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head. "Not death, if that is what you are concerned about. However, breaching a magical contract such as this would strip you of you magic my boy. Now, please, let us join the other champions and —"

Harry was shaking his head and Dumbledore finally lost that damned twinkle. "So be it," Harry said.

Dumbledore eased, "Good, Harry. Now, if you would please follow me…"

Harry shook his head again, "You misunderstand me Headmaster…I meant so be it in regards to my magic."

He'd only had magic in his life for a little over three years now. He'd be sad to lose it, but he could survive without it, just as billions of people around the globe did every day.

Thunderous silence fell over the hall, interspersed by the occasional gasp as people finally seemed to grasp just what he was saying. He understood why. For most of those present losing one's magic was unthinkable. Most could not even complete daily tasks such as cooking, cleaning or seeing to their own hygiene without it. Most Purebloods in the room would likely be dead inside a month without their magic.

Dumbledore blanched. "N-now Harry, let's not be so rash as all that. The loss of your magic would be a tragedy. We'd be forced to expel you from Hogwarts, your friends, the magical world, they'd be lost to you!"

Harry noted Dumbledore's now worried expression. Harry couldn't help the bitter laugh which escaped his lips at that. "You have a point, I'd hate to lose my friends. And yes, I'd miss the magical world," He allowed, before shrugging. "But honestly I have to say I prefer to go on living, which is not something I'd be able to continue doing were I to do as you ask."

He saw confusion in the faces of most of the students and professors. "You people really don't know what I'm talking about do you? Leaving aside the dangers I've faced just attending this school every year. This like trolls, Cerberus hounds, possessed teachers, basilisks and accused murderers…This tournament has an extremely high death toll! Even amongst the most senior and prepared contestants!"

"If that's true, why did you enter?" A voice called from somewhere behind him, and he stiffened.

"I've just got done saying I didn't enter the damn tournament didn't I?" He said, only to see largely disbelieving faces. Infact Hermione was the only one who wasn't looking at him like that, instead looking horrified, realizing what he was likely about to do.

Harry drew his wand, remembering the words his Godfather had coached him on when Sirius had snuck over to visit during the summer.

"I, Harry James Potter, heir of House Potter, do solemnly swear upon my magic that I did not enter my name, nor cause my name to be entered into the tri-wizard tournament. If I lie, let my magic desert me! So mote it be." He said firmly and clearly. There was a flash and people gasped. He then raised his wand and cast lumos. He still had his magic. "Is that satisfactory enough for you? Do you believe me now?" He asked, a sarcastic bite to his words.

He looked around at the startled faces around him. "In fact, you know what. I have another oath to make. Might as well, I have nothing to lose eh?" He paused then snorted. "Actually I take that back, I stand to lose quite a bit. I just don't see any alternative with what these people are trying to force me into."

Harry raised his wand again. "Harry, please be reasonable, I must insist…" Dumbledore began, and Harry could see the desperation in his eyes, he could actually see him twitch as he resisted the urge to pull his wand on his student.

"I, Harry James Potter, heir of House Potter, do solemnly swear upon my magic that I will not compete in the tri-wizard tournament. If that means I must lose my magic, then so mote it be."

Immediately there was a reaction from the goblet and a gasp raced through the hall as it's flames suddenly turned white. Then, a whiplash, as four streams of light snapped out from the goblet and latched onto him. His world dissolved into pain.

* * *

Hermione bolted to her feet as the magic of the Goblet latched onto her friend and he arched in pain, almost seeming to come off the ground in the magic's grasp. "Harry!" She cried out, anguished.

Someone grabbed her from behind holding her back. "No, Hermione don't!" Fred Weasley growled as she struggled against him.

Harry groaned, loudly enough that she could hear it, clearly fighting the urge to scream. "Harry!" She called again, trying to reach her friend.

Finally, a pained yell was dragged from his lips and the bonds of the magic fastened around him flared magnesium bright before there was a flash and he was released, to collapse to the floor.

He was left panting on the ground, smoke rising from him. Fred released her, after she drove one of her feet down on his own, and she raced to Harry's side, sliding in beside him and carefully drawing him into her arms. "Harry, oh Merlin!"

She heard running footsteps and she looked up to see Madam Pomfrey bustling up to them. Harry coughed, trying to roll over onto his side, and she was startled by the blood which now speckled the floor.

"Oh dear, good Merlin boy! What have you done to yourself now? I—" The matron asked as she drew her wand and started casting diagnostic spells at him.

Suddenly there was a gasp from nearby. "Look at the goblet!" A Ravenclaw student shouted. She followed their line of sight back to the Goblet and saw that it was now glowing, cherry red and rent with cracks.

"Everyone get down!" Professor McGonagall cried. No sooner had she finished saying this than a loud shriek rent the air. Everyone dove to the floor and Hermione looked away as it exploded.

The loud boom of the detonation was just dying away when she felt Harry twist out of her grasp and push to his feet. Everyone stared at him in shock. "Well—I suppose that's everything now, isn't it?" He said roughly.

"Harry?" She gasped.

He looked down at her sadly, before looking away, a pained look on his face. "I'm done here." He turned on his heel and started to walk away.

She stumbled to her feet and rushed after him. Madam Pomfrey was too busy checking to ensure no other injuries had occurred, and thus made no move to stop him.

"Harry, wait! Harry, stop!" She cried, finally catching up to him in the entrance hall. "Harry, _please_ , stop!"

He paused briefly, allowing her to arrive beside him. She grabbed hold of him, before he could pull away and held him tightly. "Harry, oh Merlin, Harry!" She wept. "Why, _why_ would you do that? We could have, I could have—"

Harry finally returned her hug with a sigh. "I couldn't do it Hermione, not again. I couldn't go through whatever mad… _thing_ , Voldemort, or Dumbledore, or whoever has dreamed up for me. I'm sorry…"

She shook her head in denial. "And what, you're just going to leave now? Leave me behind?"

Harry sighed, "That's the last thing I want to do Hermione, but I have to go now, no choice really, there's no place at Hogwarts for someone like me."

Hermione was openly sobbing now, "No, no, you can't leave me. I can't be alone again!" She wept.

He hushed her, making soothing sounds now, "You won't be alone. Ron's still here. Fred, George, Ginny—"

She scoffed, "It wouldn't—it won't be the same without you…"

He grimaced. "I wish more than anything that I didn't have to go Hermione."

"I'll go with you!" She said, shaking her head in denial.

Harry blinked at her in shock. "Hermione—"

"No, no! You listen to me. I'm not staying here if you're leaving. I couldn't bear it." She said, roughly.

Harry sighed again, "Hermione, you love Hogwarts."

"I do, but… not more than I care for you Harry. This place, it'll all be hollow without you," she replied shaking her head against his shoulder.

"And what about your parents Hermione? They'd likely have something to say about you running away with me. Merlin, I don't even know where _I'm_ going."

He pulled a letter from his pocket.

"What is that?" She asked, she could feel the magic of it.

He grimaced. "Sirius and Remus were afraid something else would happen to me this year, they gave me a way to reach them."

Harry shook his head, and Hermione spotted a furious old wizard stalking through the great hall, no friendly grandfatherly mien remaining. The man was waylaid by Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm leaving, but I—" Harry began, before hesitating.

"And I'm coming with you. Let's get out of here." She said stoically, steeling herself.

Harry stared at her. "Are you sure, they may be no going back if you're not."

She nodded firmly. "I'm sure."

Harry clasped he hand in his. Smiling thinly, casting a glance over her shoulder. "Then let's go. We need to reach the ward line."

They took off at a run, a shout echoed out behind them. They made it out the door and onto the path away from the school. They made for the bridge, which led to the closest edge of the wards.

She glanced behind them and saw shapes hurrying down the steps from the entrance hall. They hurried across the bridge, making it onto the grass beyond only to find a certain, furious old wizard waiting for them.

It was Dumbledore, with his wand drawn. Harry sighed, coming to a halt not far in front of the old wizard.

"That's impossible," She breathed. "No one can apparate at Hogwarts! How did you—"

"Be silent, Miss Granger!" The old wizard snapped, bringing her up short. "I will deal with you shortly."

He then turned his eyes on Harry. "Do you realize what you've done? Do you? How could you do this Mister Potter? How could you be so single-mindedly selfish!" He spat. "Do you know what I've sacrificed to bring us to this point for you to just throw it all away?"

There was no twinkle in his eyes, no grandfatherly smile now. "What do you want me to say _Headmaster_?" Harry asked quietly, shuffling to the side with her, as Dumbledore kept his wand on them.

"I expect you to explain yourself!" Dumbledore stopped then and shook his head irritably. "No, no! Actually I'm not interested in what you have to say now, you will come with me and submit to an examination by myself and Madam Pomfrey. If your magic isn't actually gone, well, maybe we can salvage this…"

Harry shook his head as they managed to get Dumbledore between the castle and themselves. "Well, it seems you've left us no choice. You beat us out here Headmaster. Clearly what we want doesn't matter, so I think I have only one thing to say to you about all that."

Dumbledore glared at him, "Oh, and what might that be?"

Harry drew her in close to himself. "Mischief managed."

And with that the world was consumed by the whirlwind.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Well, it was an older plan, but I hope you all enjoyed that. Please, please, please let me know what you thought of it.


	16. Shield Maiden

**Author's Note:** Another short plot bunny. I hope you all enjoy this one.

* * *

Hermione Granger paced back and forth before the dark wooden door to Professor McGonagall's office. She was worrying her lip between her teeth as she did so. This—this was _not_ going to be easy. Merlin and Morgana, nothing about any of this was going to be easy. But it was very important. Wasn't it. Wasn't it?

She'd been so _sure_ a few minutes ago, but—No, No! She chided herself. It _was_ important. Even if it was going to be hard…so very, very hard.

She wasn't sure she'd ever experienced anything so hard as what she was considering putting herself through. At least on an emotional level. Though she could imagine situations which would be harder. She could, for example, find herself paralyzed from the waist down or worse from the…FOCUS! She chastised herself.

Huffing a deep breath, she clutched tightly at the book in her arms. She needed to focus on the reasons she was doing this, not on the reasons it frightened her.

She was doing this for Harry. That really said it all didn't it? She was doing this so that he'd be safe and so that he'd have the strength to persevere against the odds stacked against him. She was doing this so that he'd never be alone again, and would always know he had someone who would support him wholeheartedly.

She was doing this, because if she didn't, he could and likely _would_ die.

She stopped pacing and steeled herself, squaring her shoulders and nodding her head firmly, setting a stubborn expression on her face before stepping up to the door and knocking. The answer was immediate. "Yes, come in."

Hermione placed her hand on the door handle, taking a deep steadying breath, before pushing the door open. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, looking to the Professor who was gazing at her expectantly.

She didn't know, not really, the reason why she blushed when she saw the piercing look in the Professor's eyes, but she did. Perhaps it was the connotations she knew would be attached to her suggestion?

The Professor sighed, getting a strange look on her face for a moment before rubbing tiredly at her eyes. "Oh, it's one of _those_ problems is it?" She heard the older witch murmur. "Do be seated Miss Granger, you've spent the last ten minutes pacing outside my door, I think it must be something that you feel is important."

If possible Hermione blushed even more deeply. McGonagall shook her head. "Judging by your expression and the colour your face just turned, I believe it would be fair to wager that this is something of a somewhat delicate nature?"

Hermione nodded quickly, hoping it would distract attention from her still blushing face. "Yes Professor, a-at least _I think_ it is…" She agreed before stepping forward to take the seat across from the older witch.

The Professor eyed her for a minute before grabbing a tin from one of her desk drawers, popping the lid and passing it across to her. "A biscuit Miss Granger?"

The younger witch took one, "Thank you Professor," she murmured before quickly eating the sugary confection while the Professor waited patiently.

Hermione wasn't so proud she couldn't admit, at least in the privacy of her own head, that she savoured such treats greatly. It was a minor act of rebellion against parents she knew would not have approved. It was a terrible thing, sometimes, to be a dentist's daughter.

Hermione swallowed the last bite and the Professor settled back in her chair after putting away the tin again. "So, what is bothering you Miss Granger?"

The young witch swallowed thickly, the last crumbs of the biscuit appearing to swell uncomfortably in her throat at the thought of what they were about to discuss. "I—I, you see, it's just—" She paused, grimacing at herself before forcing herself to calm down. "You see, it's about Harry, and the tournament."

McGonagall sighed, "Miss Granger, I can appreciate your concerns about this tournament and Young Mister Potter. However, I will remind you that as stated by the rules no instructor at Hogwarts is permitted to interfere with Mister Potter's—"

"It's not that, I mean—" Hermione stuttered to a stop, a look of horror stretching across her face. She'd just interrupted Professor McGonagall! She glanced at the Professor nervously only to find the woman stifling an amused smirk. "It is alright Miss Granger, I am not upset. In fact I had been wondering how long it would be before you felt comfortable enough with me to interrupt, even on accident," The Scottish witch said, a small smile twitching the corners of her lips. "What then, may I ask, is the matter with Mister Potter then?"

Hermione worried her lip again, processing what the Professor had just admitted to her, "Well, nothing's wrong with him exactly…I mean, beside the tournament, and everyone turning against him again, and Ron being a prat, er — I mean…"

McGonagall merely looked amused again. "Rest assured I have noticed young Mister Weasley's behaviour towards Mister Potter. He is indeed, making a wonderful fool of himself. Though I will ask you not to quote me on that."

Hermione nodded dutifully at her Professor's suddenly stern expression. "I just…it's just…" She sighed. "What do you know about how Harry survived _that night_ Professor?"

The older witch's eyebrows climbed in surprise. "I must admit, I did not think that was the direction this conversation was going. Though I suppose that must already be patently obvious."

The Professor paused, considering, looking away somewhat uncomfortably, then allowing a small breath to escape past her lips as she offered a small nod. "I know very little Miss Granger, perhaps a touch more than most, thanks to my association with Albus and Mister Potter's parents, but precious little even then."

Hermione gazed at the Professor hopefully, "Then…you know about his mother's protections, right?"

McGonagall frowned. "Not in so many words, no. I know that Lily did something, I know that it is in some way connected to how You-Know-Who met his end and Mister Potter survived, I know that it has something to do with why Mister Potter is housed with his relatives. Beyond that, I know nothing at all about whatever method Lily used to save her son."

Hermione blinked, "It has something to do with why Harry has to live with the Dursleys?" McGonagall looked uncertain and opened her mouth to respond when Hermione closed her eyes, shaking her head and raised a hand to stop her. "No—that can wait, for the moment. I just…I heard from Harry that his mother's sacrifice had something to do with his survival. Harry implied that Dumbledore said it had to do with how much she loved him."

Her Professor nodded seriously, "That was implicit in the limited explanation I received from the headmaster as well."

Hermione nodded, absently beginning to chew her lip again. "I was…intrigued by the idea that affection or rather emotion in general could fuel spells which were that powerful," She admitted after a moment or two. "I was confused by the notion until I remembered a little of what Harry has let slip about how the Patronus charm works."

McGonagall nodded, "It is not the memory, so much as the emotion evoked by that memory that fuels the spell. Contentment, a sense of family, love…"

Hermione bobbed her head in agreement. "I was curious, and wondered if other such spells could be used to aid Harry in the tournament. After all he's going to need every edge he can get if he wants to…well, if he wants to survive."

McGonagall stared at her piercingly. "Mister Potter is aware of the Dragons, isn't he? How?" She asked brusquely.

Hermione winced and looked away. "I don't want to get anyone in trouble."

The Professor considered her, then nodded. "Very well, I will pretend then that I do not know that Mister Potter has learned of them."

"I-if it helps Professor, he warned Cedric about them as well," Hermione ventured.

McGonagall offered a small smile and nodded, "It does actually. These things should be as fair as it is reasonably possible to make them."

Hermione stifled a snort. "With respect Professor, nothing about this situation is fair. Not for Harry."

McGonagall contemplated that, before conceding the point. Hermione ploughed on. "I went looking for methods—spells, rituals, potions, whatever—of utilizing a person's emotions to improve Mister Potters odds of success."

Here she paused, feeling very nervous again. "I found out that the unforgivable curses are powered by negative emotions, hate, the desire to cause pain, the desire to dominate…but it took some time to find any references about spells powered by positive ones."

She swallowed thickly, "I er…I eventually found a book that discusses such things and I think I found something that might allow me to help Harry, but I don't understand everything about the ritual described…" She shifted the book in her arms a bit higher.

McGonagall stared at her sternly. "You are aware, are you not, that ritual magic is greatly restricted here at Hogwarts, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded, "I know, but—surely Harry's survival is worth bending the rules a little Professor?"

The Professor considered her a moment, before nodding slowly. "Perhaps. May I see the ritual in question? I assume this book is the one in which it is detailed?"

Hermione hesitated, then unbent her arms from across her chest and handed the book across to her. "It's on page 108, Professor…"

McGonagall stared at the cover of the book for a long time, "I have not seen this book in many decades Miss Granger. And leaving aside the question of how you came to possess a book I know for a fact was last seen in the restricted section of the library—" Here she gave Hermione a pointed look, but Hermione set her jaw stubbornly. "I would like to express my surprise that you were able to decipher it, it is an old volume after all. One detailing Old Magics, most of which have long been forgotten by the bulk of the wizarding public."

Hermione blushed a bit, "I'm a bit ahead in Norse Runes and Olde English."

McGonagall quirked an eyebrow at her, "More than a bit, if what Professor Babbling tells me is true."

She stared long and hard at Hermione before looking back at the book in her hands, rubbing a hand across the soft leather covering. "Page 108 you said, correct?"

Hermione nodded and McGonagall opened the book and began leafing through the pages. Finally she came to the correct page and stopped. Hermione could see her eyes darting back and forth across the page.

Finally the Professor's eyes drifted up from the page and she stared blankly into the distance for a time, before closing them and drawing in a deep breath, before blowing it out again.

When she opened her eyes again, they were locked with Hermione's own. "You do realize, Miss Granger, the magnitude of what you are suggesting? Not only the magical repercussions and the possibly physical ramifications, but the social and political ones as well?"

Hermione nodded solemnly. "I do, or at least I believe I do."

McGonagall's eyes flicked to the book again before she gently closed it. "The Shield Maiden's Oath…I've not heard of it being utilized in living memory. Though to the best of my knowledge it is still well within legal bounds. Unlike some rituals these days."

Again her eyes zeroed in on Hermione's own. "Very well, to ensure we are on the same page, I will clarify," She began. "First, the magical consequences. Undergoing this ritual, would in effect bind your magic to Mister Potter and allow him to access your magic should he so desire. Something that does not come without risks. Do you know why?"

Hermione nodded, "He could draw too heavily on my magic and exhaust me. If the exhaustion were severe enough it could cause me to lose consciousness."

McGonagall nodded in turn. "Indeed. Now, that was but the simplest of the consequences. Physically in some way you would find yourself marked. In some cases this is simply a small tattoo denoting your allegiance, in other cases depending on the bent of a family's magic…it can be more extreme. It was not unheard of for there to be ritual scarification or the appearance of a chain or collar which could not be removed."

Hermione was worrying her lip again, but nodded. The Professor sighed. "Finally, are the social and political ramifications. Some positive, some…potentially less so. It would mark you as a vassal of House Potter. What this means is that you'd be recognized officially for your allegiance to them, and be due protection, physical, political and magical for your fealty. In return you would be obligated, socially that is, to reciprocate that allegiance by protecting House Potter's members, particularly its head, and its interests. You would effectively find yourself acting as young Mister Potter's bodyguard and retainer."

The younger witch inclined her head in understanding. "Though I suppose in many ways that would not be such a change for you," The Professor admitted. "There is one last set of, major, social connotations. First, let me remind you that this ritual and the strength of its effects are determined by the strength of your affection for the one you wish to bind yourself to. I will not insult your intelligence by assuming you do not know the key element of this ritual is your affection for…well, for Mister Potter. Mere friendship, while laudable, will not be enough however."

Hermione looked down for a moment, before meeting her eyes again. "I know that Professor, I do believe I will be able to power this ritual though…"

The Professor eyed her speculatively, and Hermione got the distinct impression she was seeing the truth of the matter. "How long?" She finally asked.

"Professor?" Hermione said, wanting to be sure she understood the question.

"How long have you been in love with Mister Potter?" The Professor clarified.

Hermione blushed again, but didn't bother to deny it. "I'm not certain, I think I at least fancied him since he saved me from that troll in first year. However, I think it's only built over time since then. I—I would do anything for him. Anything. If he asked."

McGonagall considered her, then nodded. "Then it is very fortunate that it is not in Mister Potter's character to intentionally abuse that sort of devotion," she mused, before sighing once more. "The ritual, and the strength of its results would clearly indicate, not only to those involved, but any who learned of it and knew what the ritual entailed, just how strongly you feel for Mister Potter."

Hermione blushed again, but the Professor pressed on. "That sort of affection is not easily ignored. It would be assumed, as a matter of course, that you intended to be physically intimate with Mister Potter. Indeed some would assume you must already be so."

The young witch was sure her face must be nearly incandescent at this point from all the blushing.

"As such," The older witch continued. "You'd need to be careful about who learned of your allegiance and method of declaring such. That said, it might not be so easy, all such ritual declarations are logged by enchanted books at the Ministry."

McGonagall grimaced. "There is one last social…issue of note. Though it could be termed a physical issue as well. Were Mister Potter and you to not engage in a romantic relationship, but his eventual mate were found to be barren or otherwise unable or unwilling to bear him an heir, you would be expected and obligated to carry that heir for him."

The teenage witch blushed, but nodded seriously. "I know how important heirs are in the wizarding world Professor…And I said I'd do anything for Harry. I meant it. If it'd make him happy, I'd do it."

The Professor nodded, appearing thoughtful as she stood and turned to pace over to the window which she then stared out of. "So, you _do_ understand what you are suggesting."

Hermione nodded, though McGonagall couldn't see it. "Yes Professor."

"And you still wish to go through with it? Mister Potters situation is not so hopeless that there are not other ways for him to succeed. You of all people should know that he has a habit of rising to the occasion."

Hermione knew that very well, it was true. "I couldn't live with myself knowing that I had the opportunity to help him, and did not take it. Especially if he came to harm because I balked at the cost."

McGonagall nodded, "It is rare to meet someone so young who is so devoted to another."

Hermione raised her chin proudly, "Harry's worth it. Especially as I know that he would never ask this of me himself."

McGonagall turned back from the window. "I presume you have brought this to me in the hopes that I might assist you in carrying out the ritual? It does require witnesses."

"Yes, that and I will need help ensuring the ritual is prepared properly. I've never done one before," Hermione admitted.

McGonagall nodded, "Two things, then. First and foremost, if this is to be done you will have to gain Mister Potter's permission to bind yourself to him. As mentioned it creates various obligations on his part and requires his participation in the ritual."

Hermione nodded, though she felt nervous at the mere thought of trying to sell this idea to Harry.

"Second, I will require that the other witnesses be Professor Babbling and Professor Vector. Both are foremost experts in the field of ritual magic and their skills will be needed to prepare it."

Hermione nodded again, "That is acceptable, I don't want to risk this ritual going poorly. I know the consequences of a failed ritual can be dire."

McGonagall nodded, "Very well. Get Mister Potters permission and I will set this up."

The younger witch was chewing her lip again, "I don't mean to complicate matters, but shouldn't the Headmaster be consulted for this too?"

To her surprise, the Professor shook her head. "No. Not only is it not his business unless we make it so, he would only seek to dissuade you and would likely attempt to refuse you permission to enact the ritual. The headmaster has a rather blinkered view when it comes to rituals, part of the reason they are so restricted at Hogwarts. He would protest simply because he views all rituals as in some way dark."

The professor grimaced, "As it stands however, per regulation, you do not require any further permission than that of your head of house. Which you have. I would however strongly advise you to inform your parents of what you intend."

Hermione winced, she couldn't imagine that conversation would be easy. Perhaps McGonagall read some of that in her face, because she nodded. "While I find myself uneasy at the notion of sanctioning something your parents might object to, I will suggest you frame your proposal to them in terms of the benefits you will enjoy for swearing allegiance and noting how much you trust Mister Potter not to abuse the position he will hold."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, and the Professor hummed in satisfaction. "Good, then I shall leave those matters with you. Unless, of course, you have something else to discuss with me?"

Hermione shook her head, standing. "No, Professor, that was all. Thank you for your assistance."

McGonagall favoured her with a small smile and passed the tome back to her. "It was no problem. Now then, you'd best run along. I'm sure Mister Potter is wondering where you wandered off to."

Hermione blushed, and nodded, mumbling a farewell before hurrying from the room. Now then, to find Harry.

* * *

She found him, in the unused classroom they'd been using to study and prepare for the task. She entered just in time to see the pillow he was summoning flop to the floor short of its intended destination. It was not due to lack of power she knew. Harry was certainly powerful enough.

She feared it had something to do with his will and how distracted he was right then. Harry sighed as he picked up the pillow and tossed it back to the other side of the room. "Oh, hi Hermione. Where'd you run off to? I thought you were just going to ask McGonagall a quick question?"

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione corrected primly, causing him to smirk and roll his eyes fondly.

"Fine, _Professor_ McGonagall," He agreed.

She smiled thinly in return, "I found her in her office, the question just took a bit longer to sort than I'd thought it would."

"What did you want to ask her anyways? If it's not private that is," Said Harry.

She worried her lip for a moment as she set her book and bag on one of the desks. "It's not private, in fact it involves you."

Harry quirked an eyebrow at her, which she saw when she glanced at him. "I think we've got a good plan…or at least a workable one, for how to get you through the first task," she hedged.

Harry grimaced, "Yeah, now if I can just get this spell down…"

She smiled thinly, "It's just a matter of focus Harry, and it's completely understandable that you'd be distracted right now. It's just like any other spell, focus on your intent and cajoling your magic into making it happen and you'll get there. You've got the wand movements and pronunciation down already."

Harry frowned, but nodded, thinking on that. "I'll try, but first you need to finish telling me what you talked about with McGonagall."

She nodded, ignoring the fact he'd yet again referred to the Professor informally. "I think we need to give you an edge Harry, not so much over the other champions as over the tournament itself. The tasks will only be getting more dangerous, we can't afford to leave things to chance."

Harry hummed in agreement, "I assume you've thought up a way to give me an edge without cheating? I don't fancy the goblet deciding I've broken the rules and stripping me of my magic."

Hermione frowned. She had thought on that angle as well. Rituals were indeed permitted by the Tournament from what she'd seen in the copy of the rules Harry had, belatedly, received from the tournament organizers. "I have, and— well, it's a ritual which would allow you to access more magical power."

Harry blinked, and then furrowed his brow. "Is that common? Increasing someone's magical power I mean? I was under the impression you more or less had the power you had."

Hermione grimaced, "Not common, no. The ritual isn't easy and has fallen out of favour in the last few centuries. Most methods of gaining more power are dark, and so people don't use them. This one isn't though, but it is fairly complicated."

He raised a brow at her. "Okay, how would it work?"

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Basically it would require us using a ritual to have me declare my allegiance to you."

She was…oversimplifying things a bit, but she didn't think she could tell Harry about her feelings for him just then, and what part they would play in the ritual. Merlin, what if her feelings for him weren't strong enough and he found out?

She shivered slightly at that thought.

Harry didn't notice, "Okay, but what would that do?"

"It would allow you to use my magic if you wanted to, all you'd need to do is reach for your magic and my magic would bolster it if that was your intent."

Harry's eyes widened comically, "I couldn't take your magic Hermione, I—"

She stopped him by raising a hand, "Honestly Harry, you wouldn't be taking it from me permanently or anything like that, just enough to get you through the tasks."

Harry settled somewhat, looking sheepish.

"Now, I've gotten permission from Professor McGonagall to do this ritual, and she and a couple other professors will witness it for us. The only complication is that…well, I'll need to inform my parents. Their permission isn't required, but I should still tell them. And well…there are some social implications as well. Basically, I'd be swearing to try and help you however I could, and you'd be promising to protect me in return."

Harry nodded as he mulled that over, "Well, I don't see the harm in that I suppose. I mean, we already do that for each other right? I mean—not that you can't protect yourself perfectly fine, I still remember you socking Malfoy one last year," he reminded her sounding amused.

She blushed a little, "Yes, well, I'll only say that he had it coming."

"You'll get no argument from me," Harry said smiling.

"Good, now, I'm going to write a letter to my parents. But I need you to keep practicing your summoning charm. Then we'll go talk to Professor McGonagall again after supper."

Harry eyed the pillows jadedly. "I'm not certain if I'll get this charm down in time if I stop for supper."

She smiled encouragingly. "You'll get it Harry. Just try to remember what I told you and I think you'll get there."

Harry sighed and nodded, he then pointed his wand at the pillow, screwing his face up in concentration. " _Accio_ Pillow!"

To his apparent surprise the pillow flew across the room and smacked him in the face.

She chuckled lightly, "See Harry, you've nearly got it. Now just focus on making it come to your hand instead of your face."

He shot her a look but she'd turned her attention to gathering her writing supplies and began penning her letter to her parents.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Well, I hope you all enjoyed that. It was an interesting premise to play with, but I was reluctant to go further with it before I knew what people thought of it. So, saying that...Please, please, please let me know what you think of it! ALSO, thanks to Volksbrot for betaing this.


	17. Alt First Year Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Bit of a short one, but I figured I'd put it out anyway.

 **IMPORTANT NOTE** : This will be repeated at the bottom as well. Pretty much any of my plot bunnies are up for adoption. I may pursue them myself at some point as well, but for now I'd be more than happy for one of you guys to do something similar. Just tell me which story you'd like to work with and let me know when you start posting. Otherwise, maybe note that it spawned from one of my plot bunnies. Go wild.

 **Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize belongs to JKR. As ever I'm not making money here.

* * *

 **ALT YEAR 1 Chapter 2**

The door swung inwards immediately. There, standing in the doorway was a tall, black haired witch in dark-green robes. She had a very stern expression and Harry's instincts told him that this was not someone to cross.

"The first'-years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid cheerfully. Harry blinked, this must have been the witch Susan's aunt was referring to back outside the platform.

The stern witch nodded shortly to him, before turning her eyes back on the crowd of first-years "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She stepped aside and allowed them to file up some stairs into the Entrance Hall. Which it had to be said, was so big Harry wouldn't have been surprised to learn that the entirety of the Dursley's home could have fit into it a couple times over.

The stone walls were lit with torches, similar to those he'd witnessed at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to easily make out the detailed carving Harry spotted in them. There was an elegant marble staircase facing them which Harry speculated must lead up to the majority of the castle.

The followed Professor McGonagall across the smooth stone floor. Harry could, if he listened hear the drone of many hundreds of voices coming from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must have already arrived — but Professor McGonagall did not immediately guide them into that room, instead leading them to small empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing in a bunched group which wasn't altogether comfortable for Harry. He had issues with being so close to other children his age, something he suspected had to do with his cousin's treatment of him.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," The Professor began. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will need to be sorted into your houses. The sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room."

She paused, letting them digest all that. Harry hoped this new 'family' would prove better than his previous one…

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin." She stated, with a small moue of distaste in her voice on that last one. "Each house has its own noble history and has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points." Here she paused to give them all another stern look. "At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

She paused again, to let them consider all that. "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few short minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes seemed to linger on a couple of students in particular here. Notably Ron, whose nose was still smudged with something. Harry tried to flatten down his hair, just in case.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," She said. "Please mind yourselves while I am away." She turned on her heel and left the chamber. Harry swallowed a touch nervously.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" He asked Susan, suspecting that of the lot he'd travelled with, she was the most knowledgable about that sort of thing. Though Hermione would have been his second bet.

Unfortunately Susan didn't get a chance to respond. "Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Ron blurted, butting in.

Harry hid a frown, he'd come to the conclusion during their journey to Hogwarts that much of what Ron said should be taken with a grain of salt. Susan shot the other redhead a dark look before grimacing. "I'm afraid I don't know Harry, Aunt Amelia said finding out on your own is half the fun. She said it was nothing to worry about though…"

Harry nodded, trying to still his nerves. Susan's aunt had struck him as a straight forward type. He couldn't really see her giving out false reassurances. He noted that Hermione was still mumbling what sounded like spell incantations under her breath.

His thoughts were interrupted by a bunch of people screaming as a large group of what could only be ghosts streamed through the back wall.

White, and largely transparent, they glided across the room talking to each other, hardly sparing the first-years a glance. They were arguing. One, who looked to be a short, fat monk of some sort was could be heard to say. "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance—"

Another ghost sighed explosively sharing a put upon look with another ghost. "My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?" The ghost said, cutting himself off as he finally noticed all the children staring at him.

Nobody seemed able to conjure up an answer.

"Ah, new students I'd wager!" Said the Fat Friar, smiling down at them all. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"

A few of them nodded silently to them. The Friar appeared unperturbed by their reticence. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" Said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

The door swung back open and the Professor appeared, shooting a look at the ghosts. "Move along now, please. The sorting Ceremony is about to start."

The ghosts drifted off resuming their argument as the Professor turned her attention back to the students. "Now, please form a line," Professor McGonagall instructed. "And please follow me."

Harry felt oddly like his legs had turned to lead or something, and only now realized he'd been standing with his knees locked. He quickly corrected that. It wouldn't do to pass out during the ceremony after all.

Finally after they managed to get organized Professor McGonagall led them out into the Entrance Hall and across it towards the great double doors into the Great Hall.

Harry had to admit it, he was impressed. The Great Hall was at once both splendid and strange. It was lit by thousands of floating candles floating above the long house tables. That none of these candles were dripping any wax did not go unnoticed and he wondered how they had managed that.

The tables were laid with plates which at least _appeared_ to be made of gold. Somehow Harry doubted they actually were. Firstly because gold was horrendously expensive. Secondly it was heavy and soft, he'd learned that in school, not a great material for hard use like dish ware. Third was the fact that you'd be somewhat insane to eat off golden plates with any regularity, unless you fancied heavy metal poisoning. Still, it looked impressive!

At the end of the Hall was another long table which was arrayed across the width of the hall. This was where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first-years up along the aisle between the two centre most house tables, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the teachers table. It felt a bit like being in a fishbowl, being goggled at by hundreds of faces on all sides.

He looked up, to avoid the stares and noted the ceiling was velvety black and speckled with starlight. "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside," Hermione whispered to him. "I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_."

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling in the first place actually, it was almost like they'd simply forgotten to put a roof on and had been left exposed to the heavens.

Harry looked down again just as Professor McGonagall returned with a simply four legged stool, which she set in front of the nervous first-years. She then set a wizard's hat on the stool.

Harry was less impressed with the hat than the Hall. Where the Hall was grand, sparkling and utterly magical, the hat appeared dirty, worn and roughly patched…

Suddenly the hat twitched, and a rip opened near it's brim, like a mouth and…

Was that a singing hat? Harry wondered skeptically.

 _"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _but don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _a smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleep and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You Might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

 _Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And Unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _If you've a ready mind_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folk use any mean_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (thought I have_

 _none)_

 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

As the Hall burst into applause Harry couldn't help but wonder if he'd gone a bit insane. Or perhaps it was Wizards who were insane. They'd made a mind reading, _singing_ hat to determine the best place to put young witches and wizards…There was something disquieting about that.

"So, we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron muttered loudly while the hall settled. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Well, at least a hat was easier than trying to do magic with no experience, Harry mused. He wondered if the hat had somewhere to put people who were sick to their stomach with nerves? He didn't feel particularly brave or quick witted right now.

Professor McGonagall withdrew a long roll of parchment from her robes. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," She said firmly, then consulted the parchment.

"Abbot, Hannah!"

Hannah stumbled a bit in her hurry to get to the hat, before putting it one. She looked a tad ridiculous it had to be said. It just about fell down over her eyes.

A bit of a pause, then —

"Hufflepuff!" Shouted the hat. Hannah beamed and pulled off the hat as a table on the right clapped and cheered. Harry could see the Fat Friar, who was above the table at the moment, waving to the girl.

Leanna Agnew … Hufflepuff!

Susan Bones … Hufflepuff!

Harry saw Susan beam back at him as he clapped for her before she hurried over to the Hufflepuff table and was greeted by a joyous Hannah.

Terry Boot … Ravenclaw.

This time a table on the other side cheered.

Mandy Brocklehurst … Ravenclaw

Lavender Brown … Gryffindor

The red and gold table cheered loudly.

Millicent Bulstrode … Slytherin

Now the silver and green table on the far right was roaring approval.

Micheal Corner … Ravenclaw

Stephen Cornfoot … Hufflepuff

Vincent Crabbe … Slytherin

Tracey Davis … Slytherin

Fay Dunbar … Gryffindor

Kevin Entwhistle … Hufflepuff

Justin Finch Fletchley … Hufflepuff

Seamus Finnigan … Gryffindor

Anthony Goldstein … Ravenclaw

Gregory Goyle … Slytherin

Hermione Granger …

Here the hat paused longer than usual on the girl, and Harry could have sworn Hermione was in the midst of an argument with the hat. She was gripping the edges of the hat with white knuckles and muttering quietly at it.

Finally the hat and her seemed to reach an accord.

Hufflepuff!

Hermione beamed with pulled off the hat. Harry heard Ron mutter a relieved expletive of some sort and fought the urge to frown. The sorting resumed apace.

Daphne Greengrass … Slytherin

Wayne Hopkins … Hufflepuff

Megan Jones … Hufflepuff

Sue Li … Ravenclaw

Neville Longbottom …

Again a hat stall. This time however it didn't appear that Neville was arguing so much as listening to the hat as it spoke to him. Finally the hat seemed to give a shrug then—

Hufflepuff!

Neville made to run off with that still on his head, only to have to jog back and hand it off again amidst the amusement of the other students. He actually appeared rather pleased as he sat himself down next to Hermione.

Alice MacEwan … Ravenclaw

Morag Macdougal … Ravenclaw

Earnest Macmillan … Hufflepuff

Draco Malfoy …

The hat barely touched Draco's head before it was bellowing.

Slytherin!

The boy swaggered over to the Slytherin table to sit with his bodyguards.

Roger Malone … Ravenclaw

Lily Moon … Ravenclaw

Theodore Nott … Slytherin

Pansy Parkinson … Slytherin

Padma Patil … Ravenclaw

Parvati Patil … Gryffindor

Sally Anne Perks … Gryffindor

Harry Potter …

A hush fell over the hall, and Harry felt more self-conscious than ever as he staggered his way up to the stool and sat. So many eyes on him, it was quite unnerving. He could hear the murmurs from the gathered students.

" _Potter_ did she say?"

" _The_ Harry Potter?"

Harry wasn't so sure about that last one, after all he was reasonably certain there were more Harry Potters out there than just him. Not that he was certain of that fact…

Next thing he knew he was looking at the inside of the hat. "Hmmm," murmured a gentle voice which Harry couldn't entirely place, it seemed to be both in his ear and in his head at once. "Difficult. Very difficult. Not had one this hard in _quite_ some time…Plenty of courage, I see. Oh yes, quite a lot indeed to soldier on as you have. Not a bad mind either actually, though it is not your defining trait. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes — so much talent. You're a natural at magic Mister Potter. Hmmm, a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that is interesting … so, where to put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and started thinking. He wanted two things, just two things. He wanted to have friends, and he didn't want to be put in Slytherin. After everything he'd been told and what he'd experienced with Malfoy…

"Not Slytherin, eh?" The hat murmured again. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin _would_ help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that — no?"

Harry reinforced his thoughts, anywhere but Slytherin and he wanted friends.

"What about Gryffindor? Hm? No, perhaps not. Bravery is good, but you prize hard work, honesty and friendship above that. You are quite adamant now aren't you?" The hat sounded amused. "Hm, well, I suppose it'd better be…"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat shouted. Harry took off the hat and started towards the Hufflepuff table. He was so relieved to have not gotten Slytherin, that he nearly missed the fact he'd just gotten the loudest cheer yet. Though it had to be said the Gryffindors seemed shocked, and Harry could see that Ron, still in line, looked horrified.

Harry sat down next to Hermione who grinned happily at him. "Hey Harry! This is great isn't it?"

Harry could only nod, before glancing at the High Table. He spotted Hagrid, who, whilst obviously surprised, appeared pleased for him and was clapping. It was a couple of the others that caught his attention the most. First was Dumbledore, who looked much as he had in the little image on the Chocolate Frog card. The man appeared…troubled, but turned his attention away from Harry quickly and nodded to Professor McGonagall.

The other was a dark haired Professor, who was staring at him intently with a nigh unreadable expression on his face. Harry fancied, for just a moment, that he saw something like…confusion on his face, before it was schooled away.

The sorting resumed.

Oliver Rivers … Ravenclaw

Sophie Roper … Gryffindor

Amanda Rose … Slytherin

Mauricius Runcorn … Slytherin

Sally Smith … Ravenclaw

Zacharias Smith … Hufflepuff

Dean Thomas … Gryffindor

Lisa Turpin … Ravenclaw

Emma Vane … Hufflepuff

Ronald Weasley …

Ron hurried up to the stool and sat, jamming the hat on his head with a mulish expression. Sadly for him, it appeared there would be no debate this time. The hat barely finished sinking into place before shouting…

Gryffindor!

Ron yanked the hat off and glared at it before stomping off to the Gryffindor table. A few redheads who were clearly his brothers met him with perplexed expressions at his clearly unpleasant mood.

Blaise Zabini … Slytherin

And with that the sorting was done, Professor McGonagall sighed before rolling up her scroll and carrying off the Sorting Hat.

Harry looked down at his empty plate, trying to ignore his reflection in the gold surface. He only now realized how hungry he was. The snacks on the train now seemed like they had been ages ago.

Dumbledore climbed to his feet. He had a grandfatherly expression that failed to entirely hide something like disquiet before opening his arms to the students. "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Then the headmaster sat back down. Harry felt his eyebrows go up in surprise before looking to Hermione and Susan. "Um…Is he — a bit mad?" He asked.

A chuckle interrupted that and Harry looked over to see one of the older students on his other side. A girl with short rusty red-brown hair cut in a sort of pixy cut. "Mad? Oh, well, maybe. But we're all a bit mad here, haven't you noticed? Food?" She said.

Harry blinked in surprise at the food which was suddenly in front of him. "Er—yes, sure. I'm sorry but I don't know your name?" He said, struggling not to keep glancing at the mountains of food before him. His stomach rumbled expectantly.

The girl smiled. "Tamsin Applebee!" She introduced herself. "Chaser for the Hufflepufff Quidditch team, and fifth year prefect. Nice to meet you!" She said offering him a hand to shake, which he did. "Now eat up kiddo, or I'll sic Tonks on you?"*

Harry frowned, not getting the reference, or why he should be worried. "Tonks?"

"Tonks is one of the seventh years, dead good at keeping all us young ones in line, even if she's not a prefect. Good fun too, just don't call her by her first name. She hates that." Tamsin said seriously, piling some food on her plate.

"Which one is she?" Hermione asked curiouslya s she began piling food on her own plate carefully. Harry noticed she was obsessively stacking her mini carrots and neatly ordering her slices of roast potato and pork tenderloin.

"Let me see…Ah, there she is at the far end. Pink hair, nope red, someone must have made her mad. She's like that you see. A metamorph, so she looks a bit different whenever you see her. Pink's her favourite colour though, so you can usually find her by her hair alone." Tamsin said cheerfully.

Harry saw the girl Tamsin was referring to now. A girl with a heart shaped and hair which was oscillating rapidly between pink and a violent fire engine red. She was apparently in some sort of debate with a very worried looking boy across from her. He started piling food on his own plate.

"So metamorphs can change what they look like?" Hermione asked. "That's so neat!"

Tamsin snorted, "In someways it is, certainly. I wish I could fix my hair as easily as she does. But she says there's downsides too. Not my story to tell, but maybe she'll tell you someday herself."

Harry and Hermione nodded. They turned back to their meals, and for a time ate in silence. Eventually however, Susan felt the need to speak with them. "So, you two, I admit I'm surprised either of you ended up in Hufflepuff, from what I recall of the train ride you both struck me more as Gryffindors. Not that I mean that as an insult…" Susan added hurriedly.

Harry chuckled. "The hat considered it. I managed to talk it around though."

Susan blinked at him. "You talked the hat around? I didn't know you could do that."

Harry shrugged, "it might depend on how much it feels like talking at the time, you saw how quickly it sorted some people. It said I was…difficult…"

Hermione was nodding. "Me too, he tried really hard to sort me into Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, but I wanted to be here with people I knew!"

Harry smiled a bit, "It was similar for me I think. I made it clear I wouldn't accept being put in Slytherin and that I wanted friends."

Susan, Hannah and Hermione all smiled. Hannah looked to Neville here. "What about you Nev? The hat seemed to have a lot to say to you too!"

Neville blushed. "The same really, I saw all the girls from the train had gone into Hufflepuff, so I figured, why not when it gave me the choice." He frowned then. "Not sure what Gran will say though. Both Mum and Dad were in Gryffindor…"

Hannah and Susan shared a look, "If she gets upset, tell us. We'll let Aunt Amelia know, she'll set her straight!" Susan promised.

Neville blushed, then nodded again. There was a moments pause, before Tamsin leaned forward and met Neville's eyes. "You made a good choice Longbottom! Following the girl's lead that is. Always a wise choice that," She said, offering a wink. For a moment Harry was worried Neville might pass out from blushing so much.

* * *

*Yes, I've committed the cardinal sin of making Tonks one year younger than in canon so that she'd be in Hogwarts for Harry's first year.

 **Author's End Note:** Pretty much any of my plot bunnies are up for adoption. I may pursue them myself at some point as well, but for now I'd be more than happy for one of you guys to do something similar. Just tell me which story you'd like to work with and let me know when you start posting. Otherwise, maybe note that it spawned from one of my plot bunnies. Go wild.


	18. Blood MotherLily Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I finally got around to writing up what I had planned for this chapter. Took longer than expected. Still, I really hope you people enjoy this. On another note, as I stated in the last plot bunny update, all my ideas are free to adopt as you see fit. I just ask that you let me know you're doing it, and perhaps that you consider pointing out I had the basic idea in the first place.

Also, it should be noted that in all likelihood if this particular story thread makes it above 5 chapters I'll be posting it as a normal story, not as a plot bunny.

* * *

 **BLOOD MOTHER/LILY CHAPTER 3**

 **Two Days Later**

 **Azkaban Prison**

 **Somewhere in the North Sea**

The prison was a solid edifice of black stone, reaching up out of the depths of the north sea to tower darkly over the little vessel picking its way through the swells towards it. In rough weather it was nearly impossible to reach the prison by boat. On such days those who wished to access the prison were forced to utilize other means.

Today was a relatively mild one for the North Sea. With the deck only shifting a bit beneath Tina Scamander's feet as it ploughed slowly on towards the docking gantry which had been lowered from the side of the prison.

Tina had been forced to visit the prison before, many times, in her capacity as an Auror. And every time she did, it just reaffirmed her hatred for the place.

She reflected on this grim thought as her eyes tracked the spectre like visages of a pair of dementors patrolling above the gantry. Their tattered robes blowing in the wind on their emaciated frames.

She tried to ignore the images that flooded her mind as they drifted closer. The characteristic sickly green flash and snap of a killing curse flying over her head. A line of muggle soldiers and wizards advancing as one, guns and wands belching death to all before them. A strange silvery plasm consuming a chair she'd been in moments before…A pair of eyes, one pale, almost white, the other a vivid blue and the sounds of a cultured voice laden with malice.

She shook that off and sent the dementors a glare. Even Newt, with his great love of creatures, great and small, didn't care for dementors.

The boat arrived at the suspended pier with a jolt, and one of the boats crew nimbly leapt across onto the gantry to begin tying themselves to it. A few moments later and he extended a ramp over onto the deck and Tina was able to disembark. She was met by a rather disheveled man she knew to be the current Warden. A stocky and muscular sort, despite the deleterious effects of his surroundings.

"Auror Scamander," He greeted, offering a hand to shake.

She took it and gave it a quick pump. "Warden Burns."

He smiled tiredly at her, "I seem to recall you have a talent for the Patronus charm Missus Scamander, would you care to help me clear the way to my office? We can file everything for the transfer while we're there."

Tina nodded solemnly, drawing her wand and moving to follow him as he did the same.

They carefully picked their way up the gantry and approached the main doors at the top. The gates of Azkaban were forbidding, great black metal slabs which didn't look like they could be shifted by anything short of a very pissed off giant when sealed. A single letter, A, secured over where they met.

She tried to ignore the unnatural frost which formed across their surface as the Dementors drifted above them.

The Warden paused, tapping his wand on the door in a pattern she couldn't quite discern before stepping back slightly. The door thunked heavily, as various tumblers shifted and the great pins which held the door shut retracted allowing the door to swing inward without a sound.

They were greeted by another of the prison staff, this one appearing far less hale and hearty compared to the warden, being a gaunt and haunted looking sort. Azkaban was not a healthy place to reside, even for the guards. She hoped that this poor soul was rotated away from the prison soon.

She and the Warden paused at the foot of the main staircase as the doors closed once more behind them. Burns flicked his wand and an ethereal Bull stood before them stamping its hooves eagerly.

He looked expectantly to her and she summoned her own patronus, a rather large shining Niffler. She gave the Warden a challenging look, daring him to mock it, but the man merely nodded as the atmosphere around them seemed to lift. "Up we go then," he murmured.

The Patronus charms flew out ahead of them as they proceeded up several flights of stairs. Tina tried to blot out the sounds drifting to them from the cell blocks they passed. The sounds of pained moaning, quiet sobbing and the occasional bout of hysterical laughter reaching her ears.

It was a few minutes before they arrived at the Warden's office on the administrative level midway up the prison tower. There was a roaring fire in the grate when he arrived, tended by a small solemn looking house elf.

The Warden pulled a kettle off the heat pad on his desk, pouring himself a cup from it. "Chocolate?" He asked.

She inclined her head at him, "Please."

After he poured and mixed up the hot chocolate for her she took it gratefully and began to sip at it as he enjoyed his own. However, eventually he spoke up and it was time to get down to business. "So, you're here for Black then? When I read the missive I could hardly believe it."

She cocked her head at him curiously. "Oh?

He looked a tad embarrassed here in all honesty. "Begging your pardon, but I've reported Black's claims of innocence up the chain, not that I expected much to come of it. Most of them claim innocence at one time or another," he confided solemnly. "Crouch has been particularly adamant about Black's guilt. His letter back was…unpleasant. So, to hear that some evidence has come out suggesting he's innocent is, well, a bit of a shock."

Tina nodded slowly, ignoring her internal outrage at Crouch's behaviour. "Ah, well, yes. Crouch was less than happy to do it, but when certain people learned of the evidence he was more or less forced to change his tune."

The Warden raised a curious eyebrow at her. "Certain people?"

She fought down a sigh, the Warden had always been something of a gossip. How he managed to keep relatively upbeat despite his long term position in Azkaban, she didn't know.

"Specifically?" She asked rhetorically. "Griselda Marchbanks, Augusta Longbottom and Arcturus Black…The press."

The Warden's face lit in understanding, "Ah, that'd do it. Two of the big ones in the light alliances and Black's Grandfather. I understood that old Arcturus wasn't well though…"

She shrugged, as casually as she could, "He has his ups and downs. As cantankerous as ever of course," she said, a small smile quirking her lips. She'd not be telling him that she, Moody, and Andromeda had discovered he was being poisoned by his own son and personal healer. Nor that within twenty-four hours of his finding out both of the culprits had been found dead.

The Warden nodded sagely, sipping thoughtfully at his chocolate once more. "Well, I suppose we'd better get all the paperwork filed. I assume you have it with you?"

She nodded, handing off a folder she'd been keeping concealed in her trench coat until then. He took it from her and set about filing away the various sheets in the appropriate file cabinets.

Finally, he finished up his task and turned to her. "Right, well. Let's go up and get our prisoner out of his cell shall we?" He said, straightening his jacket a bit as he made his way back to her.

Tina nodded quietly, finishing the last dregs of her drink before handing him the now empty mug. Soon enough she was trailing after him as he led the way from the room.

"Gonna need to cast another patronus. That section of the prison is under constant watch," The warden muttered.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "You have no other means of pulling back the Dementors?" She asked, curious. She'd wondered before this time of course, but never had the chance to ask.

He shook his head, grimacing. "Not really, no. The dementors barely listen to us. If it weren't for the constant reminder we can drive them back when needed, make them hurt…Well I have the feeling they'd have kissed everyone in this place long ago."

She shuddered a bit at that thought, before conjuring her own patronus alongside his own and following him up the stairs.

It was a long climb, by the end of it Tina's legs were burning a bit from the exertion. They arrived at the top most level and Tina caught a glimpse of the pair of patronus circling the level outside one of the slim slit-like windows. "Here we are. High security cell block," the Warden murmured to her unlocking the door, which he held open for her.

She stepped inside. If possible this place was even worse than the rest of the prison. There was a stench and the sounds of sobbing were near constant as they made their way along the block. "We do clean them out you know?" The warden said, noticing the way her nose wrinkled at the smell. "It's just…they tend to mess themselves when the Dementors come around. Well…most of them. Black doesn't. Figured it was because he was so dark it didn't phase 'im no more."

She nodded understanding. Pausing briefly as they passed one cell, which she heard a feminine cackle emanating from. Bellatrix Lestrange, said the grimy nameplate. She caught a glimpse of wild, matted hair, a ragged form and the brief glint of mad eyes before pressing on.

The warden led her on, until finally came to a cell door on the end of the block. Sirius Black, she noted from the nameplate. This was the place. The warden nodded somewhat unnecessarily to the rough form lying on the black that served as a bed in the cell. "This is him."

Tina nodded shortly to him, before stepping forward and clearing her throat. "Sirius Black?"

The form stirred and rolled onto its side before pushing so that he was seated on the edge of the 'bed'. It was only then that his eyes, dark grey and questioning turned to her. Surprisingly sane seeming.

"Who's asking?" He rasped, his eyes searching her face curiously.

She noted the strange runic tattoo on the back of his skeletal hands which he ran tiredly back through his unkempt hair. "Tina Scamander, auror. I don't believe we've met before," she said.

He stared at her for a moment before nodding slowly, "No, we haven't. Heard of you of course. Newt's wife."

She inclined her chin in agreement. Black had been a fairly new hire when he'd been arrested as she recalled. They hadn't had an opportunity to cross paths, but her reputation preceded her it seemed.

"Mister Black, evidence has been found which suggests that you are not guilty of what you were accused. Further, examination of the records indicate that you didn't even get a trial—" She ignored the muffled curse from the warden at that last part before continuing. "We're here to get you out and bring you in for trial before the Wizengamot."

There was a couple beats of silence, then the man in the cell actually began to chuckle, a rough, choking sound which hurt to hear before he pushed to his feet. "About damn time. You caught Pettigrew yet?"

She shook her head. "No, not yet. We've kept everything hush hush thus far. But we'll start searching for him soon, I assure you. Just as soon as we prove you are innocent Mister Black."

He hummed thoughtfully before coming to stand before the door. "Alright, so, how's this going to work?"

The warden shuffled forward, pulling the keys from his belt. "I'll just unlock the door. You got cuffs auror?"

Tina nodded, pulling out the cuffs and holding them up. Sirius chuckled again. "Do I want to know if you've ever used those on Mister Scamander?" He asked.

She rolled her eyes, "I was told you were something of a rogue Mister Black. Your question does not shock me."

He shrugged, apparently unperturbed. "Ah well, guess that means I need better material. Comedy's a bit short in here."

The warden finished unlocking the door and Sirius offered up his wrists, which she slapped the cuffs around a moment later. "This way Mister Black, we'll get you on the boat and back to the Ministry in no time," Tina assured him.

The warden led the way back through the cell block, where Sirius paused at the door looking back at the cells there. "I feel like I should say something here to the other prisoners, but—well, I hate their guts anyways so what's the point?"

Tina shook her head, she'd never heard of someone maintaining a sense of humour after so long in Azkaban. "If you'll forgive me saying so, you seem remarkably collected all things considered Mister Black."

He sighed, looking very weary as he followed the warden down the stairs. "I know I'm innocent, that helps some. It's not a good thought considering I've been locked up in here anyway, so the dementors can't take it away," He shrugged. "Also, it's a bit 'laugh or cry' here, and I've always had a thing for gallows humour."

She nodded understanding, and they made the rest of their journey in silence before once again finding themselves before the great doors once again, which were in due time hauled open by the same gaunt auror as before.

Sirius took a deep breath as they stepped through, only to double over with a deep hacking cough. "Sorry," he rasped, "Just…been a long time since I've had real fresh air. Guess I wasn't ready for it…"

She patted him consolingly on the shoulder. "Well, you'll have a while to enjoy it properly on the boat ride back. Plenty of time to get used to it again."

He nodded and they made their way down the gantry onto the boat which was still tied up against the pier. It was here Tina turned to regard the warden once more. "Thank you for your assistance Warden Burns. I won't call it a pleasure, given our surroundings, but it could have been worse."

He shook her hand, smirking tiredly. "Yeah, no problem."

Tina then settled Sirius on one of the seats in the boat and they cast off less than a minute later once the lines tethering them to the dock were withdrawn.

Sirius took another deep cleansing breath, this time without coughing. "So, this is what it feels like…" he murmured. She gave him a questioning look and he smiled wanly. "After so long I'd nearly forgotten. Freedom."

* * *

They finally arrived on shore close to an hour later. Pulling in to a small warded dock space utilized by the Ministry of Magic. During that time, Sirius Black hadn't done or said anything other than to simply enjoy the feeling of not being in his cell. Well—that was _mostly_ the case.

He still occasionally sent the auror with him a searching look. Tina Scamander had possessed something of a reputation in the auror corps. A war hero, along with her husband. The stories were impressive. She only worked part time, last he knew, due to her preference for spending time with her husband after the war with Grindelwald.

An attractive enough woman, even now, so many years later. She had black hair which reached down to the edge of her jaw, which he suspected was kept that way with the aid of a charm given her age.

Magical aging being what it was though, he suspected the crows feet she had around her eyes were the only real indication as to her age these days.

He wondered just how it was that this woman in particular came to be retrieving him from Azkaban. Typically such things were handled by a pair of junior aurors. When they finally stepped up onto the dock, he looked to her a bit expectantly. She caught his eye and nodded, "We'll be portkeying to the Ministry, Mister Black. Once there you'll be given a chance to clean up and then looked over by a healer. After that we'll take you to your trial."

He nodded thoughtfully, "Why? I mean, why now? Why am I being brought in for trial after so long?"

She grimaced, "It'd be better not to discuss the details with you right now Mister Black. Your lack of trial will be looked into, so, for now, let's just focus on getting you ready okay?"

Auror Scamander then pulled a portkey ring out of her pocket. Sirius was aware why they hadn't used it before now. Protocol being what it was, and the wards preventing magical transit in place both at the prison and aboard the boat.

She enlarged it so that it was large enough for both of them to hold onto. He took hold of it, and she tapped the ring three times with her wand chanting. "One-two-three—activate."

And with that, they were pulled into the whirlwind of portkey travel, only to arrive at their destination a short time later, rather suddenly appearing in one of the DMLE holding rooms. The auror had to help Sirius back to his feet, as he'd lost his footing due to how atrophied his muscles were. "On your feet Mister Black, follow me and we'll get you to the showers."

She then led him out of the room and down the hall to a door, which she opened before ushering him through. "As you see we have some clothes prepared for you. The room is warded against magic, but you won't be needing if for the shower anyway."

She then stepped back towards the doorway. "I'll just be outside when you're done."

The door closed with a click behind her, and he threw the lock, before peeling off his ragged and rancid prison garb, before stepping into the shower. It was like heaven to take a shower after so long without one. He was more than a little disgusted by the colour the watered turned before heading down the drain. He supposed the filth really had built up after a while in that hellhole.

Even after he was satisfied he was clean, he only spent another five minutes under the water. Just enjoying the warmth of it. Finally, he turned it off, stepping out of the shower to dry off and get dressed. Dropping the old dirty rags in the wash basket.

He then unlocked the door and stepped outside, where Tina Scamander was indeed waiting for him. "All ready for your check up Mister Black?"

He cocked his head at her curiously. "Check up?"

She smirked a bit, "I did mention it before, but it has been requested that you be checked over by a healer before being brought before the court. Partially this is to ensure you haven't been dosed with counter-serum from somewhere…somehow, and that you are fit to stand before them and be judged."

He snorted in dry amusement. "Not sure where they think I'd get counter-serum from, but sure."

She nodded, then led him through the building to another door a fair distance and a couple floors away. "Just inside, the healer will see you now."

Sirius inclined his head, before stepping inside.

* * *

 **About An Hour later**

 **Courtroom 10**

Newt stood in the shadows beneath the jury's gallery, surveying the courtroom around him. This wouldn't be the first time he'd been in such a chamber. Once or twice he'd even been the one on trial. _Merlin_ , it wasn't even the only time in recent memory he'd been in a courtroom.

About a month ago he'd been in one to testify against a criminal who had been illegally breeding cockatrices. All in all, he was somewhat sick of courtrooms really.

It didn't help that he was less than certain just how today's proceedings would go. He believed that the woman he'd first encountered at Privet Drive was indeed Lily Potter. He even believed that she was remembering correctly in regards to Sirius Black. He just didn't trust the court to verify the truth and exonerate the man appropriately without Dumbledore there to exert influence on the court.

Newt's eyes sought out those in attendance who were of particular concern. This trial was already turning into a bigger production than strictly speaking necessary in his opinion. The Minister was present of course, but so was her chief rival, Cornelius Fudge.

Crouch was present, and he'd already raised an almighty fuss over Sirius receiving a trial at all. It was the others that concerned Newt the most however…

Lucius Malfoy was present, conversing quietly with various members of the court. Newt was worried that he was exerting his not inconsiderable influence to see Sirius placed in prison once again, no matter the truth of things.

Then there was Delores Umbridge, she was an ally of Malfoy and if the rumours were true, she was maneuvering to work her way into Fudge's good graces as well. Which was unfortunate, she was a vile bigot of the worst sort. Newt had a more personal grudge against her, as she was amongst the most ardent proponents of eliminating 'dark creatures' whether or not they were actually dark in any way. The fact that she regularly colluded with less than salubrious elements in their own society was an apparently unnoticed irony for her.

There was a flash, and the courtroom briefly quieted as a patronus whirled into the room and spoke with the Minister. It went on, quietly speaking to her for a time, during which Bagnold paled a bit, before collecting herself as the patronus vanished. "Ah, well then, it appears we are at last ready to begin," The Minister said officiously.

She then pasted a rather unconvincing smile on her face, "Members of the court, witnesses, members of the press and observers, please be seated," she said before turning her attention to the new Chief Witch. "Chief Witch Marchbanks. If you would begin the proceedings?"

The gruff old woman nodded as she stood up. She'd only been made Chief Witch the day before actually, in the emergency session called to deal with the aftermath of Dumbledore's death, but had stepped up into the role admirably thus far.

"On this day, the 5th of august, in the two thousand and seventh year of our lord. We convene this meeting of the Court for the retrial of Sirius Orion Black," She intoned calmly, "Are there any matters which must be discussed before this session begins?"

A wand lit in the crowd, but Minister Bagnold also ignited her wand, as did Bartemius Crouch. Marchbanks nodded to the Minister. "Minister Bagnold. You first, if you please."

Bagnold stood, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I have been informed that strictly speaking it may be more appropriate to refer to this meeting simply as the 'trial' of Sirius Orion Black. Rather than as the retrial. It would ah—appear that he never received a trial in the first place…Evidence will be provided during the trial verifying this fact."

Marchbanks and most everyone else in the courtroom stared in disbelief at the discomfited witch. Unhappy mutters could be heard from the various levels of the courtroom.

"Very well, it shall be noted in the records," Marchbanks assured her, giving her an unreadable look which caused the witch in question to flush. She then turned her gaze to Crouch, who Newt noted was now looking distinctly uncomfortable as well. "And you, Director Crouch?"

He shook his head, waving her off, and she nodded after staring at him a moment longer than was comfortable. "Very well, which brings us to the last item of business…Madam Umbridge…" She said, a tone of distaste making its way into her voice.

"Hem hem…" Umbridge said, standing. "I'd like to lodge a complaint that this trial was called in the first place. I see no reason why we should waste Ministry resources on a—"

Newt rolled his eyes as jeers and catcalls sounded from throughout the courtroom, most if not all of them directed against the very stupid witch. Marchbanks interrupted the swell of noise with a loud crack of her gavel. "Madam Umbridge, that matter has already been discussed and deliberated upon by the court," she snapped. "In addition, we just got done hearing that the accused has not even had a _first_ trial! Therefore, on the basis of that alone this trial demands the attention of those gathered here today."

Here the Chief Witch paused to cast a jaded eye over the court. "I will warn you all right now, any further attempts to bring the verdict of that previous session of this court into question again, will be looked upon _poorly_. Am I understood?"

Umbridge looked furious, but nodded stiffly before sitting back down. The Chief Witch rolled her eyes and looked around the courtroom. "Very good. Now, if there is nothing further…"

Here she gave the court a look which suggested that it better be good if there was. "Then I will ask that the aurors please bring forth the accused."

The doors opened and two aurors entered with the prisoner standing between them. Newt nodded briefly to his wife before turning his attention back to the Chief Witch.

"Aurors, please identify yourselves to the court," Marchbanks instructed formally.

"Senior Auror Tina Scamander," his wife declared, clearly so that all present could hear.

"Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt," said the handsome dark skinned auror next to her.

Marchbanks nodded, "Please see the accused to the judgement seat," she said indicating the chair in the centre of the room.

Sirius was then escorted to the centre of the room and secured to the chair. Though they refrained from utilizing the enchantments which would have bound him to it with the thick chains which lay about the chair's feet.

"As determined prior to this session the accused will be tried with Veritaserum. Aurors Scamander and Shacklebolt. Has the accused been checked for occlumency shields or anti-serum?"

Tina nodded firmly. "Yes, Auror Healer McConnell checked for both whilst examining the prisoner."

Marchbanks made a little note on her parchment. "And what were their findings?"

"While the prisoner does have rudimentary occlumency shields, they are badly damaged by his time in Azkaban prison. It was their considered opinion that they were not in any way sufficient to interfere with veritaserum."

The Chief Witch nodded. "Very good, this court was also informed that evidence had been secured that suggested that the accused had never received a trial prior to this. Would you please present that evidence now?"

Tina stepped forward, "Upon being informed by that the prisoner had received no trial prior to this date—" Tina began, before continuing on over the mutterings from the galleries. "I sent one of the department's staff to search for records of the trial for the prisoner, Sirius Orion Black."

She paused, glancing at the crowd of observers around her. "The staff member was unable to find anything save for a notification of incarceration at Azkaban Prison. No records exist of his arrest, trial or transfer to the prison. Therefore it would be more true to say that there is no evidence that he has received a trial, rather than that there _is_ evidence that he did not."

Marchbanks nodded understanding. "Very well, do you have a sample of Veritaserum on you Senior Auror?" Tina nodded and held up a vial which she had pulled from her pocket. Marchbanks hummed in acknowledgment. "Very good. And are you willing to vouch for the quality of this sample?"

Tina nodded, "Yes ma'am, I am. It came from the DMLE stores just a few minutes ago."

The old witch smiled slightly at the younger woman. "Excellent, I shall introduce the prosecution and defence, and then we shall begin." She turned her attention to a pair of men off to the side. "Acting for the prosecution is Micheal Wilkes." She stated and man stepped down onto the courtroom floor. Newt knew little of him personally, save that he was often seen in the employ of Malfoy and his ilk. His presence did not bode well.

"Acting for the defence is Solicitor Ted Tonks."

Here, Sirius looked up sharply as the man in question joined them on the floor. Understandable really, considering Ted's status as Andromeda's husband.

Members of the prosecution and defence. Do you have any matters to be discussed prior to the questioning?"

Both men shook their heads and Marchbanks inclined her chin at them. "Very well, Senior Auror Scamander, please administer the serum…"

Tina stepped up beside Sirius who was sitting patiently, waiting for this to occur. She tilted his head back and dripped three drops onto his tongue, causing his eyes to go a bit vacant.

"Some control questions," Tina said. "First, your name, for the record."

"Sirius Orion Black," the man said calmly as Tina cast a couple charms over him to keep track of his vitals and neurological responses.

"House at Hogwarts?" She prompted.

"Gryffindor."

She nodded, "Please respond to this next question in the negative. Were you a beater for the Gryffindor Quidditch team during your time at Hogwarts?"

"Nn—yes." Sirius rattled out.

Tina cast a couple diagnostic spells then nodded in satisfaction, before turning to the court. "Veritaserum confirmed to be working."

Marchbanks nodded solemnly. "Very well. Attorney for the defence. Mister Tonks, you may begin your questioning."

Ted stepped up towards Sirius, "Sirius Black. Were you given a trial after you were arrested on the 1st of November two thousand and one?"

Sirius shook his head, "No, I was not."

Again that murmur went around the courtroom and Ted nodded stoically. "You are accused of having betrayed the Potter family to the self-styled Dark Lord known as Voldemort…" Some flinches in the crowd here, "Were you the Potter's secret keeper?"

Newt knew that Ted had discussed the matter with Lily too, which was likely why he'd picked that question specifically.

Sirius shook his head again, "No, I was not."

Several shouts were heard from the crowd and there was a great deal of angry murmuring from them as well. Marchbanks smacked her gavel down, "Quiet in the galleries!" She commanded and silence descended once more.

"Why was it believed by the general populace that you were the secret keeper?" Ted prompted.

"It was an intentional misdirection. It was felt that I'd be the obvious choice and that I'd be better able to handle being endangered than the real secret keeper would. We went out of our way to ensure a few were told that I was secret keeper and let rumours do the rest."

"Who was the _real_ secret keeper?" Ted asked next.

"Peter Pettigrew."

Ted nodded, "Is this why you killed Pettigrew, because he'd betrayed your friends?"

Sirius shook his head, "I did not kill Peter."

There was an almighty uproar at that, Newt heard Umbridge's shrill voice claiming that Sirius must have thrown off the serum amongst the din. Another couple cracks of the gavel and silence descended. Umbridge sunk sullenly into her seat after a pointed glare from the Chief Witch.

"Sirius, all that was found of Peter was his finger after the street blew up, can you explain that last statement?" Ted said, looking curious.

Sirius shrugged, "I was not the one who blew up the street. Peter did that, right after he cut off his finger, then he transformed and escaped."

"Transformed?" Ted asked, looking for clarification.

"He's an animagus, a rat specifically."

Ted hummed thoughtfully, then looked to the Chief Witch, but is distracted when a wand ignited in the crowd, indicating a desire for someone there to speak.

The Chief Witch looked to it, before nodding slowly. "Lord Arcturus Black, you may speak."

Sirius gave a small start and looked up to see his grandfather in the crowd. The elder wizard ignored his grandson's gaze for the moment. "I'd like to request permission to ask the defendant a question."

A murmur passed through the crowd, but Marchbanks cocked her head at the old wizard curiously. "Irregular…but, not forbidden. I'll allow it, for the moment at least. Go ahead Lord Black."

He nodded and looked to his grandson who looked a tad uncertain at his attention. "Sirius, did you inform any of the guards at Azkaban, or any aurors involved in your arrest of your innocence?"

There was a small commotion off to the side as Crouch leapt to his feet, red faced. "He confessed! He said he was to blame!"

Marchbanks brought down her gavel with a sharp crack, causing the man to flinch. "Director Crouch, you have not been granted leave to speak. _Sit down_ , and allow the defendant to respond!"

Crouch attempted to glare the Chief Witch into submission but failed when her own more than outstripped his by a wide margin. He sat with a huff.

Arcturus looked back to Sirius questioningly. "Is what he said true?"

"Technically Director Crouch is correct. I did claim to be at fault. I was distressed and in some ways I do consider myself at fault. It was my suggestion that we make Peter the secret keeper. I thought no one would suspect him of being secret keeper."

Arcturus nodded thoughtfully. "I see, and my first question?"

Sirius nodded, "I did, I told anyone who could hear that I was innocent, that I'd never had a trial."

Here Tina ignited her wand and the Chief Witch nodded to her. "You have something to add Senior Auror?"

"Whilst at Azkaban in order to Retrieve Sirius Black, I spoke with the Warden on duty at the time. A Warden Burns. I'd be willing to testify that he confided that he had reported Sirius Black's claims up the chain, but was firmly rebuffed by Director Crouch."

Marchbanks turned a heated glare on Crouch, who looked notably uncomfortable when not attempting to glare at Tina.

"We will investigate that claim further at a later date," Marchbanks decided.

The Chief Witch paused considering. "Anything further Lord Black?"

Arcturus shook his head, taking his seat. "Not at the moment."

Marchbanks looked back to Ted Tonks. "Attorney Tonks. Are their any further questions from the Defence at this time?"

Ted paused, considering. "No, not at present."

She nodded, "Very well. Does the prosecution have any questions for the defendant?"

Micheal Wilkes hesitated, then nodded. "Just a couple at present Madam Marchbanks," he said, before turning his attention to Sirius. "Mister Black, why did you suggest Peter Pettigrew as secret keeper?"

Sirius shifted slightly in his seat. "I believed Peter to be loyal. I also considered him to be the least likely choice as secret keeper due to his lower than average magical power."

Wilkes frowned. "So, to be clear. You were not aware that you had a traitor in your midst?"

Sirius shook his head. "We knew there was a traitor in the Order, but Peter was not one of those suspected."

"The Order?" Wilkes prompted.

"The Order of the The Phoenix," Sirius clarified.

"Which is what exactly?" The other man asked.

"A group of citizens collected by Albus Dumbledore to help combat the threat represented by Voldemort," Sirius replied plainly.

Wilkes grimaced, clearly seeing this wasn't leading him anywhere. He paused, then shook his head. "No further questions."

"Any follow up questions from the defence?" Marchbanks asked.

Ted shook his head.

The Chief Witch paused considering her next move before nodding. "Please administer the antidote to Sirius Black."

Tina nodded, stepping forward and administering the potion. Sirius shook his head as he came out of the potion induced fugue.

Marchbanks looked to the galleries. "Then it falls to me to call a vote. On the charges of conspiracy to commit murder, how does the court find the defendant? Not Guilty?"

The majority of the wands rose. Newt noticed that Arcturus Black was among them. Marchbank had her assistant count those lit. "Any guilty?" She prompted after that was complete.

The wands went down, and only a handful replaced them. Newt considered those who lit their wands the second time. Unsurprisingly Crouch and Umbridge were among them. Newt was relieved to hear the man had been cleared on this charge.

"By clear majority the court finds Sirius Black not guilty of conspiracy to commit murder." She intoned, "On the charge of the murder of twelve muggles? Not guilty?"

Once again the majority rose. There was a pause as the results were tallied against those who voted guilty. Again not guilty won by a clear majority.

"And finally, on the charge of the murder of Peter Pettigrew? Not guilty?" Marchbanks prompted.

Newt sighed in relief as the majority once again made themselves heard. Umbridge, he noticed looked furious again.

"Very well. This court finds Sirius Black innocent on all counts."

Sirius smiled in relief.

A wand rose and lit up amongst the crowd. It was once again Arcturus Black.

"Yes, Lord Black?" Asked the Chief Witch.

"I would like to put forward a motion or two, related to this matter Chief Witch Marchbanks," he said, dipping his head respectfully.

She quirked an eyebrow at him but nodded. "You may proceed."

"First, I would like to put forward a motion that Sirius Black be reimbursed for the time he spent in Azkaban due to unlawful imprisonment."

There was some muttering from the crowd and Newt supposed he could understand that reaction. To some eyes it would appear as though Arcturus was intending to fill his own coffers due to their relation.

Marchbanks merely nodded, "Very well, those in favour?"

A slim majority agreed to it. "The amount will be discussed by the court at a later time. Next motion Lord Black?"

"I would like to motion that Peter Pettigrew be stripped of his status as an Order of Merlin award winner," he stated, and soon enough they were voting on that very matter. This one passed by a clear majority.

Sadly the next motion, to start a manhunt for Peter failed, if only barely. In large part due to Umbridge once again whinging about wastage of Ministry resources. Sirius it had to be noted appeared less than pleased. In fact he looked murderous.

Arcturus grimaced as Marchbanks shook her head, "I'm sorry Lord Black, but a man hunt will not be instituted at this time."

He continued to frown, but nodded. "I have one further matter."

Marchbanks indicated he should proceed with a small wave. He straightened his robes a bit before plunging onward. "I put forth a motion that Bartemius Crouch be stripped of his position as Director of the DMLE. He has shown a clear bias, incompetence and willingness to ignore evidence and testimony in the case against my heir."

Sirius gave a rather sharp start, and stared disbelievingly at his grandfather, who continued to ignore him for the moment. Crouch on the other hand appeared apoplectic with rage. Marchbanks merely nodded once more. "Very well, an investigation has already been called for, but we shall put it to a vote. Those in favour?"

A massive majority lit their wands, even most of the dark alliances voted in favour, despite it being a popular move for their light counterparts. Newt supposed that made sense, after all if Crouch was willing to do such to the Black heir, what was preventing him from doing the same to their own as well.

"Those not in favour?" The Chief Witch prompted next.

Only Umbridge saw fit to light her wand, before looking embarrassed when she realized how alone she was. Newt strongly suspected she was voting counter to Lord Black's position out of simple spite at this point.

"Very well," Marchbanks intoned seriously. "Mister Crouch, you are hereby stripped of your position as head of the DMLE."

Crouch, if possible, appeared even more furious, standing abruptly and stalking from the room. Marchbanks shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Aurors, please follow Mister Crouch, make sure he doesn't leave the Ministry. He is still wanted for the investigation," she said with a gusty sigh, before turning her attention back onto Sirius.

"Sirius Black, if you would please take a seat along the side of the courtroom. Perhaps by Mister Scamander? The next matter for the Wizengamot will be of distinct interest to you."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thanks to Q Elwyn D and Bonsly24 for betaing this. As ever, please rate, review and comment.


	19. OLD Harry PotterDragon Age Idea 1

**Author's Note:** This is an older idea I was kicking around a while back (a LONG while back). Can't remember why I backed off on it. Still, I thought you guys might enjoy reading the few chapters I put together for it. Couple other things to note: Firstly my writing lately has not been going well, edits not withstanding. I don't know why, but I'm feeling burned out, so I'm taking some time to try and get my head in order. Secondly-And I'll be repeating THIS message at the bottom of every chapter of this I post, but FF is being weird about sending notification emails in regards to PMs. As a result you may not see my response to any review unless you specifically check the site. It's not that I'm ignoring you. Otherwise? I hope you guys (and girls) enjoy these chapters.

* * *

 **Black Emporium**

 **Kirkwall, Free Marches, Thedas**

 **9th Age (Dragon): 40th Year: 11th Month (Firstfall)**

Deep within the bowels of the Kirkwall undercity was a small nook, which in turn held a relatively small, but _definitely_ reinforced, wooden door. Getting beyond this door was something of a trick as, in order for the door to be opened, one needed a very specific password. Or a battering ram. The latter was actually more easy to come by, though using one on this particular door, tended to result in fairly immediate death upon breaching the door into the sanctum beyond.

Regardless, once beyond the door, whichever method was used, one would find themselves inside the notorious arcane reliquary shop known simply as 'The Black Emporium'.

Many centuries ago, a certain Nobleman of the city of Kirkwall, known now only as Xenon the Antiquarian, got it into his head that he deserved to be immortal. Being far too grand and special a person to simply die like some common peasant. So naturally he set about on his quest to finding immortality, throwing huge sums of gold at the problem, until one day he actually stumbled upon a solution. Far away, in the Antivan wilds, lived a witch. One who, at least according to his sources would, for the right price, agree to grant him immortality.

Naturally Xenon grasped this chance with both hands as it were, and gained what he had sought for so long. Unfortunately, in his over eagerness, Xenon forgot something rather _important_ when he struck his bargain. He forgot to ask for eternal youth in addition to eternal life.

Xenon aged, and despite his efforts he could not stem the ravages of time. Soon enough he could barely move due to the withering his body endured despite the magics sustaining it, and was forced to flee underground for his own protection.

Here it was that he established a means by which to search for a cure to his condition. A vast reliquary of amazing objects was gathered, from near and far, by mercenaries in his employ, even as his body continued to wither.

Eventually as his funds finally began to dry up he began to arrange for the sale of the less useful objects in his possession to those with the tastes, and more importantly, gold to buy his goods. Thereby funding his continued research for the cure to his aging. Thus it was, the Black Emporium was born.

Xenon as he existed now, barely resembles a human in any recognizable fashion. Indeed some would believe that he has in fact become a literal vegetative plant, for the way in which his physical form had become twisted this way and that. Becoming fused to his seat and gnarled beyond all recognition.

Still, despite this handicap, the search goes on, and so too does the Black Emporium. Despite the occasional efforts of the afore mentioned battering ram wielding idiots.

The Black Emporium, despite its apparent failure to yield up the solution it was intended to find, was nevertheless a fantastic place to find all sorts of magically and historically significant bric-a-brac.

There were in this hidden reliquary, the fabled bone chimes of Navarra. The greatly feared and revered _Ring of Unheeded Wisdom_ …as well as a Golem by the name of Thaddeus Gigantus, Crumbum the Third. An Urchin who disturbingly never seemed to age (whom he presumably kept around for research purposes), and a tiny bear who, Xenon himself would tell you, was name Chauncy.

But none of those particular 'artifacts' were actually what drew the universe's attention to this little strange hole in the wall on this day at this time.

No, it was another artifact, not one of the many hidden in various places about the Emporium, not some long forgotten tome, or tree of ancient knowledge. Not even the box which tended to scream hysterically if you nudged it the wrong way….No it was a mirror. One which stood in the middle of the shop right out in the open, not a few feet from Xenon's semi-mummified husk.

Xenon liked to refer to this mirror as the 'Mirror of Transformation', a grand name which the device actually embodied fairly well. If one stared into it long enough and envisioned changes to their physiology it indeed would bring about those changes for you. Not that this was the mirror's original purpose of course.

No somewhere along the line the mirror had been found in some long forgotten ruin, cracked from it's original frame, affixed in a new more arcane and suitably impressive looking frame, hit with a hammer a few dozen times, re-enchanted rather poorly by a drunk blighter somewhere north of Varantium, and then hauled rather bodily all the way to Kirkwall far to the south. It was advised that you try not to stare at the crack in the mirror when transforming yourself, the results could be horrifying.

No this mirror was once, quite a long time ago, what the ancient Elves of Thedas referred to as an Eluvian. A so called 'Seeing glass'. All but the most learned of modern Elves had forgotten the Eluvian's true purpose by and large, so maybe Xenon could be forgiven for the way in which it had been so poorly handled.

Eluvian were, quite simply put, trans-dimensional trans-locational devices. Which is to say you stepped through one, after providing the appropriate password of course, and generally ended up on another plane of existence known as the crossroads. From here you could access any number of the constructed Eluvians across Thedas and even, it was said, places far beyond! Transporting you to just about anywhere the Ancient Elves had set foot at the height of their power.

Now the vast majority of Eluvians led to simple mundane places in various cities and fortresses the Elves had constructed during their long reign as the undisputed rulers of Thedas. However, a forgotten few led…elsewhere. One or two of them even bypassing the crossroads entirely.

Several led to the realm, known somewhat fancifully as the Fade, a dream world from which much magic flowed into the lands of Thedas, and which quite unfortunately played host to hordes of demonic monstrosities.

Another led to a rather similar world to Thedas, and a great distance away, known as Nirn. Yet another led to a large island on some unknown world inhabited by giant rampaging lizards…

But this one, the forgotten and battered Eluvian in the Black Emporium, and perhaps one or two more besides, led to another world entirely. A small, relatively unremarkable world, the third such orbiting a relatively small star in an entirely different galaxy and universe…

And it was likely this fact would have been completely forgotten forever, were it not for a strange twist of fate which resulted in the still silence of the Black Emporium being shattered, rather loudly it must be said, as the afore mentioned mirror exploded in a shower of glass shards, and magical detritus, throwing a pair of rather startled humans across the room to come down with a crash amongst a number of crates, barrels and statuettes. One of the crates started screaming in response, though nobody paid particular attention to this in the sudden chaos…

As the two humans, one male one female, stumbled to their feet, Xenon, rather startled by the sudden and unorthodox interruption, finally regained his voice. "W-what! You can't be in here!" He shouted unhappily, "You don't have an invitation!"

One of the humans, the male one, staggered sideways clutching his head and accidentally laid a hand on one of the statues to steady himself. "DON'T FONDLE ANDRASTE!" Xenon screeched. "This is utterly unacceptable, you can't just barge in here, from…fr—" He trailed off for a moment before screaming rather shrilly. "You broke the Mirror of Transfiguration! You bastards!"

One of the humans muttered something unintelligible to its companion, and they nodded regaining their balance. Xenon of course had no interest in what they had to say at this point and had decided to have them thrown out. "Thaddeus! Thaddeus? Don't just stand there, get them you lumbering oaf!?"

This is when things went even more pear shaped with the new, and very confused arrivals, who had Xenon been listening more closely, were asking each other where exactly they were. Thaddeus Gigantus, the big golem in the corner straightened as he received orders from his master and took a slow lumbering step towards the pair of intruders.

Now, again, had he been paying attention, Xenon would have heard the male human sigh rather wearily as he noticed the moving mountain that was Thaddeus. He then pulled out a stick from the sleeve of his rather strangely cut shirt, and flicked it almost negligently at the ancient Dwarven killing machine responsible for most of the battering ram related deaths in the city. A jet of water burst forth and hit the golem hard enough to cause it to stagger back nearly crushing poor Chauncy the tiny bear and prompting more yelling from Xenon.

Then quite suddenly the water turned to ice and Thaddeus ground to a halt. Now, had that been the end of it, Thaddeus might have regained his senses and used his prodigious strength to break free of the ice. However more water soon cascaded over the frozen behemoth before once again turning to ice. This repeated a couple times, until it became quite clear that Thaddeus the golem was not going anywhere any time soon.

Ironically, it was witnessing this which finally quieted Xenon. "Uhm—well bother, that's never happened before." He muttered. The humans ignored him, possibly not realizing the ossified husk in the middle of the room was who had been screeching at them. "Uh—I say, you wouldn't happen to be willing to—" He stopped as the humans started towards the door murmuring to each other. "Come now, that's just rude! I'm talking to you—No, come back, at least buy something—Won't you at least tell me how long Thaddeus will be stuck like this? No?" There was a beat of silence followed by the sound of a door shutting and Xenon huffed a sigh. "Bugger…."

* * *

 **Darktown Sewer**

 **Beneath Kirkwall**

Wall-Eyed Sam, was not the most brilliant thug in Kirkwall, in fact he was probably one of the stupidest. This had led him to getting stabbed more than once in his short and pathetic life. The most recent of which had been when he'd run off with that tome a certain Pirate Queen and the entire Qunari nation had been after… In retrospect he should have been glad he hadn't ended up dead and not just perforated by an unhappy pirate who had promptly taken back said stolen tome.

Life hadn't much improved since then for Sam. He'd fallen in with the East Side Dodgers…then the West Side Thumpers…then that weird cult led by a girl who believed she was an Old God. Finally ending up with a small band of miscreants in the Darktown sewers, who in all honesty were not much brighter than he.

Wall-Eyed Sam had spotted tonight's meal ticket, which per agreement between this particular informal little club of thievery, had earned him the lion's share of whatever they took off those they'd robbed.

He was looking forward to getting blackout drunk at the Hanged Man that evening. He'd seen the pair of strangely dressed Fereldens, at least that's what their accents suggested they were, exiting through that door everyone knew to stay away from into the sewers.

They looked somewhat worse for wear, but each of them had some strange but finely cut clothing on them, the lad had a pack, and he'd spotted a nice little bauble around the girl's neck.

Being the dutiful sort he was—in his dreams at least—Sam had hurried off to find his friends, and had brought them hurrying back to observe the strange pair who had just made it out of the sewers in the time he'd been gone.

"Honestly, Harry, who in their right mind sees a magical mirror of 'mysterious purpose' and thinks, oh yeah, I'm going to speak a special magical tongue in its presence just because it's got these little snake carvings on the frame." The female complained.

Wall-Eyed Sam smiled happily to himself at that. Only folks who talked about magical stuff was mages as far as he was concerned. Mages always had valuable stuff on them. He'd be eating and drinking well tonight! He might even make enough to buy an hour with one of the girls at the Rose.

Big Tag would be taking the lead though, things always went better when Big Tag led the way. Big Tag was a bruiser, who'd grown up in Darktown. Nobody messed with Big Tag. Well except the Carta….and the Coterie, and the Guard….the Templars…Hawke…

Okay so plenty of people messed with Big Tag. But not little prissy foreign mages, that was for sure. Besides, they had them outnumbered!

They paused as they listened to the pair talk. "Look, I'm sorry 'Mione, I really am, I didn't mean to get us in trouble _again_. I'm certain we'll get things sorted out soon enough though. Right?"

The girl sighed, rubbing at her head idly. "I'm sorry for snapping at you Harry, really, I'm just frustrated. I'm sure you're right we'll get this sorted out…"

Apparently Big Tag had gotten tired of waiting at this point and stepped out into the pale moonlight filtering down from above, the signal for the others to come out and encircle the strangers.

The two strangely dressed mages stiffened slightly at their appearance. "Alright you lot, you don't belong down here see" Big Tag rumbled scratching his belly before pointing at them with his cudgel. "So you gonna have to pay right? Your money or your life."

The male cursed and rolled his eyes, and the girl sighed before addressing him. "Look we're just lost, we'll get out of here as soon as we can, there's no need for—"

Big Tag spat on the ground, "Shut it, Dog Lord Bitch!" He growled, causing the girl to look affronted. "This here's our patch and you gonna pay the fee. Or we take it out of your hide. You choose."

The pair hesitated, and Big Tag grew impatient. "Right, boys, looks like it's the hard way. Let's—" He lifted his cudgel to stalk towards the pair when all the void broke loose.

The boy huffed irritably before yanking a…stick? from his sleeve and flicking it at Big Tag. Who promptly was tossed across the tunnel to slam bodily into the wall. The other thugs, including dear Wall-Eyed Sam goggled at their fallen leader for a moment before doing what came naturally to them. Namely running at the pair screaming while waving their assorted ad hoc weaponry wildly.

Sam charged, brandished his shiv threateningly at the girl only to see her level another stick at him, a determined look on her face, before finding himself flying backwards at speed.

Luckily for ole Sam, he didn't hit a wall like the others, instead bouncing and rolling down the tunnel to fetch up against a wall with a clang.

A clang? Wall's down there were made of mud and limestone, not metal! Sam tried to roll over but found himself pinned by a weight on his back. He peered blearily at a pair of armoured boots which came to rest in front of his face. He then followed those boots up past the greaves and onwards until his mildly addled mind focused his eyes on the helmeted head of the soldier above him.

Ah sod, it was a Templar. He fought to get up, but the boot on his back just added pressure. "Stay down scum, we'll handle things from here."

So Sam, wisely, decided to stay down, you tended to do that when a knight in full armour was all but sitting on you. As a side effect it meant he had a front row seat to what happened next. The pair of mages watched the arrival of the heavily armoured soldiers skeptically. In fact the boy made a point of commenting on the fact. "Okay, did we take a left turn at Narnia? I swear those are knights coming at us…"

The girl sighed rolling her eyes as the Templars fanned out silently around them. "Harry, is now really the time for that?" She asked keeping her stick pointed outwards towards the Templars. Sam couldn't help but giggle a little inside, well at least if he didn't get to rob them, he'd get to watch the Templars beat six kinds of sod out of them. That's what Templars were for after all, as far as Sam was concerned.

Finally one of the Templars spoke, "Surrender Mage, and we'll go easy on you, Knight Captain Cullen says you all get a fair trial, but if you fight, we'll take you down." The first knight warned carefully, perhaps perplexed by the small sticks the mage were wielding, most mages preferred staves of one kind or another.

The boy looked to his companion, who gave him a subtle shake before he sighed shaking his own head. "No, I'm sorry, I can't do that, I don't know who you are or who Knight Captain Cullen is, but I won't be turning myself over to anyone, fair trial or no. We've done nothing wrong."

The knight might have protested, but the sound of additional boots marching into the tunnel stalled him. The Knight then squared his shoulders, emboldened by the reinforcements "I'm sorry to hear that, men prepare to—"

"That is quite enough Knight Sergeant." A voice rang out as several pairs of boots marched past Sam's spot on the floor.

The Knight stopped, looking quizzically towards the pair who'd just led another squad of soldiers into the room. The first, another Knight, though this one had more elaborate armour, the second a woman, with tightly bound red hair, wearing a watch officer's uniform.

The Knight then stuttered, coming to attention as he recognized the two before him. "Knight Captain, Guard Captain Aveline."

Wall-Eyed Sam groaned, the Guard Captain was perhaps the most humourless prude he'd ever had the misfortune of running afoul of. That she was somehow a friend of that pirate wench who'd stabbed him only added to his consternation regarding the lady. She shot him a quelling look and he fell silent.

The Knight Captain waved the other Templar down. "Would you care to tell me what is going on here Sergeant. I was coming down here with Captain Aveline to conduct a search and heard the ruckus…"

"Er yes sir. We had been keeping order down here as best we could, per your instructions. But—well we found this lot," He said prodding a groaning Big Tag with his foot. "Trying to rough up this pair of mages."

The Templar hesitated, then admitted somewhat grudgingly. "The Mages have done nothing wrong that we can tell, they defended themselves we think. But given the present mood in the city, and the fact this is Darktown…"

"You thought you'd try and get them off the street." The Knight Captain completed.

The Knight appeared relieved. "Yes sir,"

The Guard Captain nodded to the Templar leader, some silent message passing between them. "And you two, does that story match your version of events?" She asked sternly eyeing the strangers quizzically.

The pair glanced at each other, easing slightly. "Yes ma'am…Captain Aveline was it?" The boy asked, and she nodded in agreement. "That about sums things up, I'm afraid we're a bit lost and were trying to find our way up out of here…but we don't really know our way around. This lot." He said indicating the other thugs and Sam. "Decided to rough us up, and we put a stop to that. Unfortunately these men came in afterwards and demanded we surrender."

Captain Aveline nodded, and shared another look with Cullen. "Sounds about right for these lot being here. Wall-Eyed Sam and Big Tag if I'm not mistaken. Still, leaves me with some questions though, if we agree to keep the Templars out of it would you be willing to come up to the keep to answer some of them for me? Just need to wrap this up cleanly. We have enough trouble with mages in this city without another fight between you and the Knight Captain's boys."

The pair glanced at each other again, this time the girl shrugged, then jerked her head silently at the Guard Captain. The boy cocked his head quizzically then shrugged as well. "Alright, we could actually use the help Guard Captain…"

"Then so long as you continue to mind yourself and obey our laws, you'll have it. But first we should get you to the keep before anything else happens." Captain Aveline looked to her men who had accompanied her and jerked her head at the sorry group sprawled on the ground. "Lieutenant, sergeant take your men and get these boys up to the lockup. Knight Captain, this little diversion has disrupted our plans for the raid. I'd be surprised if the targets didn't see or hear this and do a runner but we can continue if you wish."

The Knight Captain paused. "No, you're right, we've lost what little surprise we had, and it was a low probability we'd catch anyone useful anyway. We'll call it a night. Knight Sergeant Ingram, you are to take over the patrol down here for Knight Sergeant Cade's squad. The rest of you are finished your shift for tonight, head back to the Gallows and rest."

He turned back to the Guard Captain, "Captain Aveline, would you mind terribly if I accompanied you, I'll make sure none of the more eager Knights bother you, and I admit I want to hear what these two have to say myself."

She dipped her chin slightly. "Very well, I'd appreciate the company this time. You two, may I ask your names?" She said turning her attention to the pair as a guard hauled Sam to his feet.

The young woman answered first. "Hermione Granger."

Then the lad, carefully tucking his stick back into his sleeve. "Harry Potter."

* * *

 **Lowtown Market**

 **Kirkwall**

Captain Aveline Vallen had to admit she didn't quite know what to make of these two. She was more accustomed to Mages than most, and even still these ones gave her pause.

Not just because they'd been down in the undercity in the middle of the night. No, that was just about normal for Kirkwall these days. There was something off about these two. Not in a bad way that she could tell, the seemed harmless enough, but in a fashion that had her hindbrain kicking her frontal lobe trying to get her to notice something.

As she led the group marching up from Darktown towards Hightown and the Keep, she kept shooting sideways glances at the pair. Who appeared not to notice for their part.

The first thing she noted, was that while somewhat scuffed and dirty, the clothes the pair wore were of fine quality. If somewhat less colourful in variety than most mages favoured. Then again not all mages could be Orlesian, or that idiot Anders. Who had more feathers in his clothes than a peacock had on its whole body.

The second things she noticed was that they were young. Not the youngest she'd seen by any stretch, but still barely out of their teens. And they stuck close to each other, clearly they were good friends in one way or another. That much had been obvious by the near silent way they communicated with each other.

The final note, and that which really caught her attention was this, they were clearly new to Kirkwall, enough so they were still looking about wide-eyed at the city even the rundown quarter that was Lowtown, with interest and a fair degree of worry.

She wondered at that, these two must have come up from the docks if they'd managed to avoid familiarizing themselves with Lowtown prior to entering the under city.

She was about to turn her attention back to the task of safely getting them back to the keep for her little chat when the girl noticed something in the sky and gasped, drawing the boy's attention. Aveline too looked up in interest but saw nothing of note. It was a clear night well lit by both moons as it was. Had something on the rooftops caught her attention?

Whatever it was had the boy curse once quietly under his breath before collecting himself, and she filed that away to ask about later.

Finally they reached the stair leading up to Hightown and glanced at the two youths again. They duly acknowledged the change in scenery with a couple glances at each other but otherwise seemed unaffected by the grander surroundings as the entered the city's more elite districts.

So they were accustomed, at least to some degree, to more developed cities. That was a bit odd. By their accents they were almost certainly Ferelden as she was, but most Ferelden cities bore more in common with the mud and stucco of Lowtown then with the granite and marble of Hightown. It was always possible they were from another Marcher city, though their garb didn't match that theory either. Maybe Jader in Orlais, it had enough Ferelden's doing business there on a regular basis but possessed typical Orlesian pomp and flare.

The last possibility didn't really match up either. These two did share the more refined accent of high born Fereldens or Tevinters who spoke common, but their dress, while odd was certainly not grand enough to suit the Northerners tastes. Magisters from Tevinter favoured outfits which would make an Orlesian Duke jealous. Not that the Orlesians would ever admit it.

Also, a pair of Tevinter Magisters wouldn't be caught dead in Darktown without a heavy escort of soldiers. It was all very strange.

The Guard Captain was finally stirred from her rumination on the strange pair when they exited the market district and passed the home of her old friend Hawke. Hawke had left the city long ago, shortly after that madman Anders had blown up the Chantry, but that didn't mean her home had remained empty.

About two days ago a detachment of soldiers bearing the mark of the Orlesian Chantry had arrived and…detained, Varric Tethras, a mutual acquaintance she would have considered a friend if pressed. They'd promptly drug him off to his friend's former estate and barred the door. She would have protested a private citizen of Kirkwall being taken in such a manner, but they came bearing a writ from the Divine herself barring her from interfering.

She hoped the Dwarf was alright. No matter how much of a pain in the arse he was.

Though, seeing the pair of grim soldiers at the door, she couldn't help but wonder if that was a vain hope.

Aveline led the way across the courtyard and up the steps towards the keep. Nodding farewell to her men as they peeled off to take Wall-Eyed Sam, Big Tag and their cohorts to the cell block. Coming to the great metal doors of the Keep, overshadowed as it was by the steel cormorant of Kirkwall.

"Open the door Lieutenant, it's just us." She said sternly to one of the guardsmen who nodded before thumping the door twice.

The door swung open, as one of the interior guards heeded the call, allowing them in out of the evening cold. She turned briefly to eye the strangers, noting the mildly impressed expressions on their faces when they first saw the Keep's entrance hall. "This way please, we'll conduct this meeting in my office I think." It was a small mercy this incident had happened in the middle of the night. This way at least they wouldn't need to listen to the constant harping of the Seneschal before getting to business.

Most of her retinue broke off and took up posts around the hall and the barracks, in the end it was just her and the Knight Captain who accompanied the pair into her office.

"Pull up a chair," She instructed before pacing around her desk, only to pause when she realized they were one seat short for the Knight Captain. He waved off her hesitation.

"Don't worry about it Captain, I'll grab one from out in the barracks." He offered turning to head back for the door when the boy, Harry if she remembered correctly, spoke.

"Actually, if you don't mind I could handle that for you?" He offered sincerely.

She paused giving him a quizzical look, before glancing at the Knight Captain, he too had paused looking curious, unsure of the lad's meaning.

Apparently Harry took this as permission as he pulled out the stick she'd seen earlier from the sheath around his wrist. What happened next would have dropped her jaw had she not been more expert at hiding her surprise.

With a brief wiggle of his stick a chair appeared, floating, from thin air. One that matched those already in her office. He waved the stick again and the chair lowered to the floor with a thump she felt beneath her feet. He noted their pause as they regarded the chair. "Go ahead Knight Captain, it's quite safe, the conjuration should last the rest of the night with the amount of power I put into it."

The Knight Captain took his hand away from the door before pacing back across the room. He raised his hand to tentatively test the chair's solidness before raising an eyebrow at her and sitting gingerly at first in the new seat.

Cullen then spoke. "I'm sorry Guard Captain, would you mind if I spoke first for just a moment, I find myself curious."

She waved for him to proceed and he turned his attention to the pair in the seats beside him. "Thank you by the way…Harry was it?" He clarified, and the boy nodded. "I admit that is quite unlike any magic I've seen before. And I've seen quite a bit."

The boy looked mildly chagrined, "Ah, I didn't realize, you both seemed familiar with magic…" He looked to them curiously. "Though, unless I'm mistaken neither of you have any yourselves?"

They both nodded agreement. Cullen spoke again. "It's quite alright, as I was saying I appreciate the gesture, I was merely surprised."

Harry nodded again. "Now, I believe you wanted us to answer some questions Guard Captain?" He said looking at her, meeting her eyes firmly.

She changed her estimation of him somewhat, she'd perfected her stare over her years as a watch woman. Not many could look her in the eye when she was evaluating them. This lad, despite his youth had some grit in him to not flinch from her stare. "Yes, and I hope you don't mind but I think we'd be best served to jump right in, I'll start with the basics. May I ask where you are from? Your accent has me a bit stumped I must admit…"

The boy winced at her blunt question and shot the girl next to him a look. "Uh—that's a bit more complicated a question than you might think. Could you tell us where we are first, then we can tell you how we got here and go from there." He suggested weakly.

She felt her eyebrow hike at that odd response to her query, she glanced at the Knight Captain who shrugged. "I see no harm in it."

The Guard Captain turned her attention back to the boy across from her. "Very well, I find it hard to believe you don't know what city you're in, without being drunk that is, but stranger things have happened. This is Kirkwall."

The boy looked blank at the name and she sighed. He must not have been well educated in geography. "It's in the Free Marches."

He continued to look blank, before he looked to the girl who shook her head, and took up the thread of conversation for him. "We don't know where either of those are, but I'll explain what we know of how we came here, perhaps that will clarify matters." She suggested before pressing on. "Harry and I were assigned the task of examining an artifact found by our…employers. They had found it in some strange ruins on another continent, and sent us to examine it on site. It was some sort of strange mirror, unlike anything we'd ever seen before. While looking it over Harry accidentally activated it somehow and we got pulled through it. We ended up in what appeared to be a shop specializing in strange arcane object down in—well that sewer…"

Cullen looked to her curiously to see if she knew what they meant. She had to admit she did, though it didn't explain how they got there. "The Black Emporium. Are you telling me you were somewhere else and got pulled through a magical mirror into my city?"

The boy nodded, "Essentially yes. Unfortunately I think it might be even more complicated than that."

Aveline sighed, somehow she'd known it would be. Strange magical mirrors aside. "Very well. Can you explain that a little?"

The boy shrugged helplessly then turned to look at the girl. She looked at her steadily almost as hard to read as the boy when he'd stared her down. "Do you have a map Captain?" The girl, Hermione, asked politely.

Aveline nodded easily pushing to her feet before pulling a rolled up map off her shelf and spreading it out on the table. The two leaned forward to examine it. Finally after about a minute of study Hermione sighed and leaned back. "It's what we feared then. That map does not match any land our people know of. It makes us wonder just how far we've travelled, and the nature of where we've been sent." She said pointedly looking at her friend who looked miserable. She then noted Aveline and Cullen's curious looks.

"I don't know how to explain, and were you not the only authority figures we've encountered since arriving here I wouldn't even consider trying. You see there are a number of things that don't make sense to us either. First and most obvious to me at least is that despite being from nowhere we can see on this map me and Harry both speak the same language as you."

Aveline nodded, that was indeed odd when pointed out like that. Hermione pressed on. "Second as I saw you had noticed earlier, Harry and I reacted strongly to seeing your night sky. Quite simply it's very different from that we see at home."

That was somewhat stranger still. As far as she knew the night sky was virtually the same anywhere you travelled in Thedas, that was what allowed people to navigate using the stars as guidance.

The younger woman sighed leaning back in her chair. "Which brings me to the final and most confusing and worrisome point. Where we come from our people are aware of the geographic nature of the entire world. We've literally mapped all the way around it and every portion of its surface. And I'd swear to you on my magic that the land described on that map right here does not exist on our world."

That made the Captain's stomach lurch, then she became suspicious. "You'll excuse me if I find that hard to believe Miss Granger."

She nodded easily, seemingly un-offended by the doubting tone. "I understand, I'm merely telling you what I've noticed since being here. What it all means I have no earthly clue."

The boy snorted. "Sure you do, if I have a theory, unlikely and insane as it is, you most certainly do. I managed to screw up so spectacularly that I got us sent to another world somehow."

Hermione frowned at the boy's bleak tone. "We don't know that Harry. There were many lands lost throughout history, it's possible we simply…well not simply really, there is that extra moon in the sky after all—but we may have experienced a temporal event."

Aveline looked curiously at Cullen wondering if he understood any of that. To her surprise he seemed to. "She means that it's possible they went backward or forward through time. As odd as it sounds I have heard the mages theorize about such things before."

She feigned indifference to that notion, shrugging as she was willing to set that aside for the moment, mages were always theorizing about something, it was half the reason they were such bloody menaces most of the time. She'd have been inclined to believe the two across from her were lying were it not for her skills at reading people, both of them read as honest. "Alright, let us say I believe you and accept that you are from a far off land, if not necessarily another world. Or at the very least that you believe that's the truth. Once you ended up in the Black Emporium, what happened?"

"We sort of stumbled around a bit, disoriented from being thrown through a mirror you know?" Harry cut in, tiredly. "Someone started yelling about us not being invited then told that stone giant to throw us out…"

"Golem," Aveline interrupted, at his curious expression she explained. "It's a Golem, the proprietor of that…shop, is rather proud of it. It's one of the Dwarves' more formidable inventions."

Harry just nodded accepting that. "I froze it in place, adding ice until I was sure it wouldn't break out. It didn't take long after that for us to decide to leave. The owner was quite upset and the mirror was…broken, obliterated really. Hermione was telling me just before those fools jumped us that the mirror couldn't be fixed anyways. The one back home was damaged too, and nothing we did could fix it."

Aveline nodded sagely, she couldn't help but wonder at the similarities the mirror they described had to Merrill's little 'pet project' down in the alienage. "Well we got out of the shop," Harry continued tiredly. "And found ourselves in a stinking sewer and promptly decided to get out of there, we'd just made it out when those idiots found us. You know the rest really, they demanded money or our lives. Then when we didn't respond right away they attacked. We fought them off then the Knight Captain's boys showed up and started threatening us."

Harry shrugged. "We didn't know them, didn't know if we could trust them, so we declined to cooperate, you arrived before it escalated."

Aveline nodded, looking to Cullen who was also nodding thoughtfully. "Yes and it's a good thing we did, otherwise things would have gotten ugly. As The Knight Captain told you he and by extension his men have some experience with magic. They are what we call Templars and are trained for fighting rogue mages."

At Harry's surprised look she decided his people must not have had something similar if they really were from as far away as they thought. "I have no idea who would have won that fight. Nor do I care to speculate, I just know it would have been ugly. So thank you for being reasonable when we stepped in."

Harry and Hermione both nodded acceptance. "Believe me we're glad things ended peacefully too." Hermione offered.

Aveline leaned forward on her desk considering. "As…outlandish as your tale is I admit I have no legitimate reason to question you further or doubt your accounting as accurate. Which leads me to my next matter of business, you are strangers who entered this city by apparently non-standard means. Thus you bypassed the gate guard, who would have asked you some basic questions before allowing you in. I'd like to cover those quickly and then we can see about proceeding from there. Unless you have any objections Knight Captain?"

Cullen shook his head, looking pensive as he eyed the two people seated with him. Aveline pressed on. "Excellent, as I suspect your business in this city involves figuring out how you got here we'll leave that question aside for the moment and proceed to the next. How long do you intend to stay in Kirkwall?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and shrugged. Hermione spoke up first. "We'll likely spend some time here, hopefully a method which we can use to find our way home is nearby. If that doesn't pan out, we'll have to try looking elsewhere…" She said sounding rather hopeless at the mere thought of it.

Aveline nodded. "Very well, do you have somewhere to stay or would you like us to arrange somewhere at one of the travellers inns for you, I suspect you are short on funds so we'll pay the first week for you."

Here Harry shrugged. "Depends, I assume your city uses gold as its primary currency?" She nodded. "Then we should be fine, besides, we have a comfortable tent with us, and as you've seen we can conjure much of what we need… We should be fine for lodgings."

She had to concede he had a point, though she wasn't fond of the idea of people setting up tents wherever they pleased…although. A thought occurred to her and she smirked. Cullen huffed a laugh and then explained at the two young adult's curious look. "The Captain has an idea for where you can stay I believe, one she probably thinks will nicely tweak the local leaders noses if I'm any judge."

She gave him a droll smile then looked back at them. "There is a room or two here in the Keep which have been without use since the Viscount's death last year. While I can't recommend you pitching your tent in the throne room, as that would be way too far, even for me. I can say that the antechamber which is just around the corner from here is more than large enough for most tents."

Cullen snorted, "What she's failing to tell you is that this arrangement would have one particular benefit above all the myriad of other camping sites around the city, it will piss off the Seneschal to no end. And he'll not be able to do a thing about it. In the current political environment The Keep and its environs are entirely under the jurisdiction of the City Watch and no one else."

Harry snorted in amusement but spoke up at Hermione's conflicted expression. "As much as I think annoying political twits is good fun, are we sure that's a good idea? The last thing me and Hermione need is more trouble."

Aveline shrugged. "The Seneschal is largely a toothless wyvern. As the city is currently under chantry control via the Templars, at the command of Captain Cullen here, Bran has no ability to actively control anything at the moment. The most he can do until the Chantry releases control is bitch and moan."

At their still conflicted expressions Aveline sighed. "Look, I'll admit I have one or two additional motivations in all this, keeping you close by while I investigate the viability of your claims is to my benefit. You will be kept out of sight and trouble for the most part up here in Hightown and I'll be able to more easily find you should my investigations turn anything up."

She shrugged, "I am in contact with the few other mages in the city at this time, and they may have information that will help you. Either way you and I both win if you take me up on my offer. If you don't, no skin off my nose really. Besides having to hike around town to find you."

Harry and Hermione shared a long look, before the girl eventually sighed and threw up her hands. "Fine, but if we get attacked by angry mobs I blame you two."

Harry nodded, then turned to smile at the Guard Captain. "Okay, can you have someone show us the way?"

* * *

Aveline watched as her husband Donnic led the strange pair out of the barracks and towards the throne room's antechamber, before turning her attention back to Cullen who remained in her office. The man had catapulted out of the chair upon the two mages departure and was now examining it closely, prodding it with his fingers as well as a small knife from his pocket. "I must say, this is quite unlike any magic I've seen before, if I didn't know better I'd say this was a normal chair…and to use mana so casually?"

She nodded agreement. "The first of many odd things about them…" She grumbled, before settling in her chair. "Tell me, what were your thoughts on them?"

Cullen looked up at her, "You mean in regards to their story, in general, or in my capacity as a Templar?"

"All of the above?" She suggested, shrugging.

He nodded, smiling in amusement as he once again cautiously took a seat in the chair. "I can honestly tell you I have no idea what to think, as strange as it may sound I've heard weirder from the mages who I've watched over throughout the years." He sagged somewhat into the seat, stretching out casually. "In general, they seem like a fairly savvy pair, the lad reminds me of some of the more seasoned mages I've worked with among other things, and the girl of some of the more scholarly ones. I'd say neither of them are strangers to combat. And it's just a hunch but neither of them struck me as liars, take that as you will."

He paused considering then allowed his eye to flick to her. "It's my observations as a Templar that worry me more. You may or may not be aware but a Templar of any rank has a number of abilities available to them as a result of their lyrium consumption." She nodded soberly, her previous husband Wesley had told her. "I probed the boy while he was here and noted a few things. First while I can feel his magic it didn't in any way react to my presence, I even risked performing a small dispelling rituals and yet this chair remains and his magic was undimmed."

She blinked in surprise at that, she was aware just what abilities a Templar possessed. "What do you think that means?"

He shrugged. "I haven't the faintest. A Templar's ability to dispel magic and drain mana comes from their ability to block a Mage's connection to the Fade. That partially blocking the Fade's access to those two even momentarily went unnoticed and utterly failed to affect this magic I'm sitting on right now leaves me stumped. It's almost as if he's not drawing from the Fade at all, and instead drawing from somewhere else allowing him to utterly ignore my abilities."

He sucked on his teeth a moment before sighing, "There is one other thing…"

She cocked her head, before nodding pointedly and he continued. "I have become accustomed to having a feel for just how powerful any given mage is when I meet them. It comes in handy when determining how to deploy my men for battle. I've been in the company of mages of all stripes and ages, even learned to tell the difference between a mage's normal strength and that gained by blood magic when they cast. The latter feels false, 'off' if you will. Though I still need more hard evidence before I can accuse and confront a blood mage…"

She made a gesture indicating he should continue, and he sighed. "Those two who just walked out of your office and are even now pitching a tent in the antechamber are the two single most powerful mages I've ever met. And like I've said I've met all sorts, even a Grand Enchanter or two."

Aveline settled against her desk thinking and he eyed her speculatively. "How about you what about your impressions?"

She sighed, "I have no way of confirming your assessment as to power, but I'll take your word for it. I can believe it, both of them were utterly confident in their abilities, the boy…Harry, he conjured a chair from nothing and didn't bat a lash. Neither did his companion. That was only a short time after an admittedly brief scuffle in which they'd used magic to take down some opponents. Neither seemed fazed by the mana they'd expended."

The Guard Captain paused considering. "My other impressions were more personal, I agree that Hermione is clearly the scholar of the pair, Harry the warrior. When I looked at him I could have sworn I was speaking with one of my officers and not a young mage."

Cullen nodded, "I feel similar, his attitude felt like one of my more solid lieutenants."

"There is one other thing, though I was hesitant to mention it in front of them…" It was Cullen's turn to gesture for her to continue and she did. "As you've no doubt noted from our conversation I've been to the Black Emporium before, I can easily believe that it would have had such an artifact within it. But that was not what gave me pause…."

She considered rocking her head back and forth on her neck briefly before shaking it slightly. "You are aware I was…am, friends with Hawke?"

He nodded. "Yes, you should hear the boys talk about some of the adventures they've heard about."

She nodded, suspecting that many of those so called adventures were tales Varric had told after one too many pints. "Hawke kept interesting company you'll recall, in particular the mages concerned me. Bethany her sister, was an apostate until the Wardens claimed her for their ranks. Anders, that lunatic who got it into his head to blow up the Chantry…"

Here Cullen nodded soberly. "I owe Hawke one for dealing with him, if I'd had to hunt him down who knows what would have happened."

She nodded, thinking of how much it had hurt Hawke to have to put down a former friend like that. "And one other, Merrill…"

Cullen nodded, knowing who she meant. "She's an odd one, if she weren't vouched for by both Hawke and yourself I'd have hauled her in long ago. Sweet little elf, can't be twenty yet. Seems shocked and awed by everything she sees, even us Templars. And yet she reeks of Blood Magic." he noted sounding conflicted.

Aveline nodded. "She was a Dalish Keeper's first as I recall, they have different views on magic, part of the reason they stay separate from those in the cities….Cost her in the end as I understand it. Regardless, I had a point. That story those two were telling me about the mirror reminded me of something to do with her."

"Oh?" Cullen asked surprised.

"Yes, she had an artifact, a mirror. One she claimed was a relic of her people. The ancient elves if I remember right. She spent a great deal of time cleansing it and repairing it. Though nothing really came of it that I know of. She was always reluctant to talk about it…I wonder if she might know what it is they encountered?"

Cullen considered. "You could always ask her I suppose. It would hardly hurt. Just do me a favour and keep her away from my men, she makes them jumpy. Whether she's been vouched for or no."

She nodded. "Perhaps I'll see if she'll meet them tomorrow morning." She mused.

He got up. "Alright, now, as fascinating and potentially worrying as a pair of strange, and powerful new mages are, I am needed elsewhere, I have one last watch position to check on tonight and then I must sleep as much as I can before dawn. The Seekers wish to speak with me about something."

She winced. "Good luck, I had my interview with them last week. I thought I'd never get out of there."

He smirked, "Thanks, take care of yourself Captain, and please keep me informed of what our new…friends get up to." He requested casting one last lingering look at the magically created chair before pacing out. Aveline settled back with a sigh. Something told her her life might have gotten more complicated.

* * *

Harry sighed as he stared up through one of the windows of the keep's antechamber, brushing a hand irritably through his unruly black hair.

Hermione looked up from where she was stowing some of her supplies into her pack. They had just finished placing a few—needfully subtle—wards around their tent where it now stood off to one side in the large palatial chamber, and were preparing to enter the tent for the evening.

"What?" She asked, perhaps a touch sharply.

Harry closed his eyes, allowing himself to ignore the two moons glowing in the clear night sky through the window. "I'm sorry Hermione, I've really messed things up royally this time haven't I?"

This time it was her turn to sigh. "Harry, I've already told you, you couldn't have known that the mirror would—"

"No, I couldn't have, but I still shouldn't have spoken bloody parseltongue at a mysterious magical mirror should I? I mean _seriously?_ What kind of idiotic moron does that? Honestly, and I have the gall to call myself a Cursebreaker? I'd have been lucky having my licence confiscated…" Her friend growled harshly.

She eyed him seriously. She knew right then he was beyond platitudes but she needed to say something. "What do you want me to say Harry? Yes, you messed up. Yes, we're in a difficult…no, _unprecedented_ situation here. But we'll handle it, we always do."

Harry sagged, "Yeah, but you shouldn't have to always be the one helping me clean up my messes. How many times have—"

Here, Hermione tried to cut across him. "Harry, I—"

"No!" He barked sharply, startling her. Harry rarely raised his voice to her. "How many bloody times have I drug you into danger, because I was too stupid, or bullheaded, to do things properly? How many times have I nearly gotten you killed, or damn near ruined your life? I keep…" He growled inarticulately as he strangled a particularly vitriolic curse, "getting us into these situations, and you keep having to bail me out! It's not right—"

"Harry!" She snapped back, mostly to get him to stop shouting, if he carried on there was a good chance someone would hear and come investigate. When he quieted she pressed on more quietly. "Harry, you need to calm down, I know you are frustrated with yourself right now…"

"How can you stand it Hermione?" He asked bitterly, hanging his head. "How do you keep putting up with me? It's nothing but trouble when I'm around. Even now, with Voldemort gone—"

She stared at him, then sighed standing properly and pacing over to him. "I can stand it, because you're my best friend, I can stand it because you've been there for me since the beginning. I can keep putting up with you, as you put it, because you never mean for these things to happen, and because you work just as hard as anyone to fix things when they go wrong. You've saved my life more times than I can count, and you have always been my best friend, the first one I had upon entering the Wizarding world…."

She pursed her lips for a moment, seeing her efforts hadn't yet got through to him, before quirking a rueful smile at him. "I put up with you because I love you, you big oaf." She just held him for a bit, before pulling him down into a kiss. "It will work out Harry, we'll make sure of that. We always do." She said smiling encouragingly up at him. "Now come on, I have something I want to do before we try for bed."

He nodded, quirking an eyebrow at her. At least she'd managed to pull him out of his funk for the moment. He had moments like this, after the war, and likely always would. The trick was getting him out of them. She'd always been the best at it, though she herself didn't realize that.

She bobbed her head at his questioning look. "We're going to try and send a message home. Now, maybe it'll work, maybe it won't, but we'll keep trying. For the sake of our own sanity and for those who might be worrying about us."

He stared blankly at her for a moment then started nodding slowly, agreeing with the idea in principal. "Okay, how?"

She chewed her lip for a moment, "Well obviously sending an owl isn't going to work. But we do have a couple other options to try. First is the mirrors."

Harry dug one of the new communication mirrors he had obtained after the war. Hermione nodded before settling in expectantly. "Er—Nymphadora Tonks" He tried, hoping to get in contact with his friend at least. She would be in a good position to contact the others who might be worried about them. Sadly the mirror stayed silent.

He sighed then looked to her, "Do you have your mirror, It'd be nice if you and I at least could talk with each other. She nodded and soon enough they had indeed confirmed they had working communications between them. "Okay so what's next?"

"Patronus Message" She said firmly.

Harry considered that. Not only was he short on happy thoughts right then he was uncertain how a Patronus might travel between worlds. Still he gave it a shot, dredging up what good feelings and memories he could. A situation helped somewhat by the recent kiss. "Expecto Patronum" He incanted aloud, giving the spell extra focus and power. Sure enough Prongs appeared. "Hey Prongs, I need you to carry a message for me." Prongs bowed his head before waiting. "Message to Nymphadora Tonks. Hey Tonks. Don't know what you've heard, but me and Hermione likely went missing on your end right? Look it's a long story, but we're okay thus far. Please send back a message if you get this…End Message."

Prongs nodded then looked about for a moment uncertainly before slowly starting for the window, picking up speed once he passed beyond it. Harry sighed. "Prongs seemed a bit less certain than he normally does when I send him out…Let's hope he figures out a way home."

Hermione nodded, patting his arm. "Let's hope, now come on, either way we're both hungry and it's getting late. We should settle in for the evening." She said firmly leading him back towards the tent.

Harry agreed somewhat reluctantly casting a worried look out the window that prongs had exited through. Finally he shook his head sadly and moved to follow her inside.

* * *

Across Kirkwall, many people were startled as the witnessed a glowing stag darting this way and that across the city before diving down amongst the buildings.

In the Alienage, Merrill, formerly of the Sabrae clan of Dalish Elves, was quite surprised when she exited her house's privy on the way back to bed to find her room occupied by a large glowing…Halla? It wasn't quite like any Hart or Halla she'd seen before that point. And it was standing there taking up most of her room, sniffing carefully at a certain mirror in the corner.

"Um—Hello?" She said, her voice a bit groggy still. The stag gave a start and turned to look at her. "May I help you?" She ventured, then nodded to the Eluvian, "I'm afraid that mirror doesn't work the way it's supposed to, I've tried fixing it…"

The Halla considered her a moment before bobbing its head as though it understood, and turned as if to leave, before stopping to consider her.

Perhaps it was the good feelings this strange beast was emanating, but…Merrill wasn't worried when its eyes fell upon her. She just smiled and tentatively raised a hand to touch it as it approached her. It's coat, feeling both real and not to her tentative touch, was warm and comforting and she giggled.

The Halla paused a moment at her touch before tentatively leaning forward and bumping her forehead with its nose. In that moment, Merrill felt something wonderful.

It had been years since she'd felt so happy, so sure and comfortable, so warm. Loved. Her heart swelled in her chest and she smiled, recognizing on some level what the strange apparition had done. "Thank you."

The Halla nodded slowly before backing off, allowing her one last pat on its flank before turning its attention to the window.

Merrill watched in astonishment as the Halla took a running leap and soared into the air through her window. She watched in awe as it streaked skyward.

Finally as the glowing beast faded from sight she sighed, smiling to herself. "Well that was nice. I'll have to look into that when I can…" She cast a curious glance at the mirror shaking her head. Whatever that was it had been interested in her Eluvian. The one she'd carefully repaired under the watchful eye of her friend Hawke.

Sadly the Eluvian was sealed, and would not open for her or anyone else who lacked the key. It was useless to her, and yet she could not bring herself to destroy it or otherwise be rid of the thing. Still…she'd keep an eye on it. Something about it had drawn that wonderful creature here.

She was soon settled in amongst her sheets on her little straw mattress bed, it didn't take long after that for her to fall asleep, her troubled mind soothed by the Halla's presence. That night she dreamed of glowing beasts, laughter and warm embraces.

* * *

 **The next Morning.**

 **Kirkwall**

 **Free Marches, Thedas**

Aveline pulled her canteen from her belt as she slowly made her way down through the Lowtown Market. Taking a sip of the still warm tea she kept within. The Market was quiet this time of morning, most of the shopkeepers still asleep in their homes or tents, the few here were up still working at opening their stalls.

Aveline liked this time of morning. Trouble makers seemed to prefer the late hours of night and evening, they too being in bed by this time. The city, usually an unrelenting cacophony of sound, was virtually silent.

She nodded to a watchmen as she passed into the Lowtown residential district, if such it could be called. To her surprise she saw a familiar face just stepping out his door when she entered the courtyard there.

Gamlen Amell. Hereditary uncle of her friend Hawke. It was strange to be seeing him down in this part of town these days, though she knew why he was here. He'd been residing in the Hawke estate after her friend had vacated the city, but with those Chantry soldiers using it in their investigations he and his daughter had taken up in his old home in low town.

Gamlen was an odd fellow, in times past he had been a crotchety, bitter old spendthrift who had spent what little gold he had on whores and booze. He'd gone through a real change in recent years however. Slowly warming, ever so slightly as a result of his family's efforts. He'd been shattered when Leandra, Hawke's mother, had been murdered. And had looked set to fall back into old habits when his daughter had come back on scene.

Charade Amell was a fiery one, and she'd done much to turn her father around. Oh Gamlen would likely never be a truly warm or welcoming fellow, but he wasn't the miserable scoundrel he'd been before. He'd even told Hawke how proud he was of her for everything she'd done before she'd been forced out of the city.

"Gamlen," She greeted, as she paced over.

He looked up from the sack he was tying off, his brow furrowed at being addressed. Though it smoothed again when he recognized her. "Ah…Guard Captain, morning. What brings you down into the rat's nest this early in the morning?" he asked brusquely.

"Going to check on Merrill. How are you this morning?" She asked politely.

He shrugged. "Fine I suppose, hear tell those…soldiers are just about done up at the estate. Me and the daughter should be able to move back in soon enough." he paused considering, then shrugged. "It's odd you know, I never thought I'd miss the hustle and bustle of having Hawke around…But I do. Void, I even miss that damn beast of hers!" He grumbled.

Aveline couldn't help but chuckle at that. Gamlen and "Dog" had a contentious relationship, one famous amongst those who knew them. That he was admitting to missing the Mabari war hound was telling. "So, you checking up on little Merrill are you? Good, she stops by every so often looking to the plants. Nice lass, for an elf…" He added that last bit a moment later, though she could tell it was halfhearted. He really did like Merrill, but was too stubborn to admit giving up his dislike of elves. "Seems sad though these days. Misses Marian I can tell."

Aveline nodded, Hawke had been Merrill's closest companion in years past. And though she wouldn't admit it, Aveline strongly suspected Merrill had harboured a crush for their fearsome leader.

"It's a good thing I'm going to check up on her then. But first, how are you and Charade holding up?"

"Fine for my part, Charade's handling well enough too. Would be nice to have Orana around of course. Girl was magnificent at taking care of things…But I understand why she went with Hawke and Bethany."

She nodded. "Yes she was very good. Though I don't think she ever quite got used to the notion of being free."

Gamlen chuckled. "No, I don't think she did at that…"

She sighed, taking another swig of her tea. "Well, I'd better be off if I want to catch Merrill, she's an early riser and I want to see her before she begins her rounds."

Gamlen nodded understanding. Merrill was well known for the way she doted on the Elves of Kirkwall. She made it her business to check on as many as she could every day.

"Yes, well. Goodbye then I suppose. See you around." He said, his customary grumpy tone in place, though she could tell it was mostly a put on. He had a reputation to uphold after all.

She nodded to him, securing the canteen to her hip again before returning to her walk. It took only a few minutes for her to make it down into the alienage from there, and the sight which greeted her made her sad.

Merrill was up alright, and tending the Vhendahl tree, nobody else would be doing it if she didn't it seemed, most of the other elves had fled the city in recent months. Only a handful remaining in the alienage proper. Boarded up houses were everywhere in the small, formerly tight knit community.

To her surprise however, especially given her recent talk with Gamlen she found Merrill appearing reasonably happy, fairly dancing about the tree as she watered it with her large can. Humming to herself happily.

"Merrill," She greeted as she slowly paced over.

The elf gave a small startled squeak before blushing in recognition. "Aveline!" She shouted happily dancing over and hugging her before backing off. "It's been too long. How have you been? I'm sorry I haven't been up to see you, but I've been busy. So many to see to, so little time, and the tree, you'd think one of the others would care enough to at least water it…"

Aveline chuckled at Merrill's familiar babbling cadence. "I am well Merrill. I understand why you've been busy. I must admit though you seem in a better mood than I was expecting."

Merrill looked at her curiously before getting an "oh" face. "I am in a good mood I suppose. I saw the most wonderful thing last night!"

Aveline cocked her head curiously. "Oh and what was that?"

"A Halla! A glowing one! They never do that normally, what it was doing in my house I don't know, but it was looking around for…never mind! But it was wonderful, I felt wonderful while it was around, so beautiful…" Merrill sighed happily.

Aveline nodded, smiling slightly, she had suspected it might be that, if she hadn't heard that report from one of her guardsmen the night before, she'd suspect Merrill had been chewing too much Elfroot…

The night before one of her guardsmen had returned to the barracks in quite a state, apparently he'd nearly messed his armour when a glowing hart had erupted from the antechamber window next to where he was patrolling the battlements.

"Yes, several people in the city reported seeing it." Adeline noted, also thinking of the confused citizens who were gathered at the keep this morning to report the strange creature. "And actually I suspect I know where it came from, and wanted to talk to you about it."

"Oh?" Merrill asked confused. "I didn't make it, though I wish I could…"

She raised a placating hand at the slight elf's worried expression. "No Merrill, I know it wasn't you. You see we have some…unusual guests up at the keep. We, the Knight Captain and I that is, were wondering if you might be able to help us in some matters concerning them?"

Merrill, cocked her head curiously blinking those big innocent eyes at her. It was odd, but Merrill always struck Aveline as a little bird-like, though she couldn't say why. "Oh, who are they, if they're Dalish, I'm not sure how much help I'll be, Sabrae isn't too happy with me right now, and the other clans are…"

"Easy Merrill, they're not Dalish, they're mages though, and strange ones at that. But you might know something about the method they used, or at least claimed they used to enter the city." She watched Merrill become even more curious. "They claim to have come through a mirror in the Black Emporium."

Merrill blinked again, before becoming very animated. "An Eluvian? They came through an Eluvian, in the Black Emporium? But…I never saw one down there, only that mirror of transfiguration…unless—" She cut herself off then frowned, stamping her foot. "That mirror, it'd been tampered with, I knew it as soon as I saw it but I didn't know what it was originally, there's been another Eluvian in this city all along and I didn't know it?" She said sounding distressed.

"Was, another Eluvian in this city if what they tell me was true." Adeline interrupted before Merrill got it into her head to go look for the thing. "Apparently it didn't react well to them passing through it and shattered."

Merrill considered her, then sighed. "And so another artifact of my people is gone. Curse Xenon and his meddling. It figures—" She trailed off grumbling before collecting herself. "Alright, I understand, you thought of me when you heard their tale because of my mirror yes?"

Aveline nodded, Merrill was usually a little…scatterbrained, but she'd always displayed the curious ability to become frighteningly well focused when it mattered. Especially when it came to all things elvish. "Yes, their tale was most odd too. They claim to be from a land, if not a world, far away, and that they were examining a strange mirror in some ruins when they accidentally activated it and were pulled through against their will."

Merrill twitched noticeably, then cocked her head again, a common gesture from her when something interested her. "Really, another world…" She paused thinking about that. "The Eluvian were reputed to reach far and wide from the crossroads. All across Thedas, and if the rumours were true, beyond. I had always assumed that part of the stories was an exaggeration, like one of Varric's lovely tales about…never mind. If they really are from so far away…but you spoke with them? They speak common?"

Avenline nodded agreeably. "Yes, and they even pointed out how confusing that was to them. From what the girl, Hermione said, it sounded like this world at least what we know of it shouldn't exist considering what they knew of their own. They didn't recognize Thedas from the maps and apparently even the night sky was different."

Merrill blinked at that, smiling. "Fascinating. Do you think they're telling the truth?"

Aveline hesitated then nodded cautiously. "They didn't strike me as liars. They at the very least believe what they said to me. And…well their abilities from what little I know of them support the belief they've been educated in magic. Somewhere very different from the circles or any other magical tradition we know of."

Aveline wondered if Merrill ever got a crick in her neck from cocking it to the side like that, but continued, explaining what she meant. "It is my considered opinion given what I know about that glowing Hart…Halla, that they were the source of it. It was quite unlike anything I've seen before from you, Anders or even Bethany. Also, they performed a feat of magic which had even the Knight Captain excited like a child on Satinalia." She noted chuckling in remembrance.

"Really, Cullen is always so calm!" Merrill noted startled. "What did they do that it got him so excited?"

Aveline smiled thinly relishing the anticipation she'd created in her friend. She'd always been jealous of the way Varric could keep others on the edge of their seat whilst telling a story. "The boy conjured a chair."

"Conjured…as in?" Merrill trailed off uncertainly.

"As in they made one from thin air, one which wasn't an illusion, Cullen was able to sit on it in full armour. They told us it'd last the night, and it did. It only faded out again this morning. Not long before I came to see you. Gave me quite a start."

Merrill looked thunderstruck. "I've never heard of such a thing! I've seen mages call ice, fire, rock and even lightning, but I've never heard of making something out of nothing before…Oh, that's amazing!" Merrill gushed excitedly. "Do you think they could teach me? I can't imagine what magic must be like in their lands if they do such things—I wonder if it was blood magic? No, you would have told me if it had been…oh this is so exciting!"

Aveline chuckled, pleased with the response her story had garnered. "No it wasn't blood magic though it was certainly strange. I don't know if they would be able to teach it or not. Some things about their magic had even Cullen stumped."

Merrill shook her head in awe of the notion. "Still, just imagine the things they might be able to do?" She blinked a moment before focusing back on her, forcibly reining in her excitement. "And you say Cullen was confused about their magic, not just the conjuration I assume?"

"Indeed, he tested them a little with his Templar abilities while we talked with them. Nothing too harsh," She hurried to say as Merrill winced. She understood, by all accounts a Templar's abilities caused a great deal of discomfort in Mages. "But Cullen was able to note that their magic, which was apparently fairly strong was entirely unaffected by his attempts to block the fade's influence. The chair didn't react in any way when he tried to banish it."

Merrill, smiled sighing happily. "I wonder—No, there is so much that is strange about them. Do you think I could meet them?"

Aveline nodded. "Yes, that's the other part of why I came to see you, they are staying up at the keep for the moment, and I thought perhaps you could speak with them a little and confirm that what they went through was an Eluvian. Also I thought it might be nice for you and they both to meet each other."

"What are they like, aside from their magic I mean?" Merrill asked curiously. "Are they old, I bet they are if they can do such wonderful things! Are they Elves? Human, not Qunari surely, you'd have mention if they were…"

Adeline raised a hand again to stop her. "They're very nice Merrill, and no not actually all that old, at least to my eyes. Perhaps a year or two your senior if that. Human, though they are dressed strangely, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised considering where they claim to be from…"

Merrill nodded. "I'd be happy to meet them…The other elves, those who are still in the city at least…they are managing well enough that they don't need me to check on them every day anymore. Do you think they'd mind meeting me?"

Aveline shook her head. "I imagine they might be quite eager especially if you let them know you know a bit about those mirrors. They seem quite distraught finding themselves stuck here."

Merrill nodded eagerly. "I'd be happy to meet them. Just let me put my things away! Oh my, I haven't been this excited in ages, I hope they don't—" Aveline didn't hear the rest as Merrill had hurried off inside her house babbling to herself. She shook her head fondly. Those two up at the keep didn't know what they were in for.

* * *

 **Unknown Location**

 **Thedas**

A patronus, could move very quickly when it wanted to. Being largely unimpeded by the usual laws of physics and such which dictated something's speed. Oh they couldn't move at the speed of light, more's the pity, but they were still very fast.

Prongs, had been bouncing across northern Thedas all night long since leaving that strange elf's house in Kirkwall. And thus far had little luck in finding more of those mirrors which sang with otherworldly magic.

That was until a few minutes ago when Prongs had sensed on some primeval level another mirror somewhere to the north of his position and set out, searching a deep forest for that elusive mirror.

And so it was, that Prongs entered the lands and forests which constituted the Tevinter Imperium, specifically those forests they had seized from the elves of Arlathan so long ago. His arrival at the small hidden ruins deep within the forest surprised the ruin's sole occupant, an elf, bedraggled and confused, stumbling from the ruin's shadowy depths.

The elf and the patronus found themselves staring at each other. The elf had seen many strange things in his time, many wonders of magic, modern Thedosians had forgotten or purposefully forbidden, and while he'd seen illusionary animals of great quality he'd never seen one like this strange glowing Halla which allowed a small shiver of warmth to breeze across his soul.

Solas his name was, though that was not the only name he'd gone by. He watched the Halla as it watched him for a moment, before it shook its head and seemed to dismiss him on some level turning its attention back to the ruins and bounding off.

He did not move to pursue it, it moved far more quickly than he could, especially in his diminished state. Though he stayed still for a time pondering what he'd seen. In the end he came to a single conclusion as the Patronus carefully searched the ruins below, it was heartening to know that strange wonders of magic could still existed. That thought made him smile wanly before he turned to stumble off into the forest.

Prongs for his part was frustrated, he'd searched the ruins, and indeed he'd found another mirror, this one too was sealed. Unfortunate, but he was getting a feel for this magic, this mirror and the one in Kirkwall were sealed differently, and he could hear the faint distant echo in this world's magic indicating there were others out there, some undoubtedly sealed like these ones, but yet more not closed properly. He would find one, and he would relay his message.

Harry Potter did not realize it, but his Patronus, embodying as it did his fallen father's animagus form, allowed a small sliver of that man's soul to house itself within it whenever it was summoned. It seemed only right to the ephemeral intellect of the Patronus that his creator's father be able to watch over and aid his son, if only in some small way.

Prongs…and that small sliver of James Potter, bounded onwards.

* * *

 **The Keep**

 **Kirkwall, Free Marches**

 **Thedas**

Harry shuffled out of the bathroom yawning tiredly, whilst morosely reflecting on his own inadequacies. He tried not to wallow, but it was hard considering that he'd literally woken up in the wrong world this morning. And that he'd managed to get his girlfriend stuck here too!

It was then, a few minutes later after feeding the familiars, that he stumbled outside the tent in order to do some morning stretches and look around a bit, and to distract himself from his worries.

The antechamber of the Viscount's Keep, where he and Hermione had pitched their tent was actually fairly nice, even by the standards of someone used to the modern age back on earth. The room's construction was fine, and while well appointed it didn't strike him as overly gaudy or lavish considering it's function. It was a large open room with banners lining the pillars between the high windows and benches where people could sit while awaiting an audience, only the occasional piece of art decorating the walls.

He was stretching his arms while examining a sadly unmoving portrait of a rather sour looking man in armour when his attention was drawn away as the large imposing metal door of the chamber opened fractionally and a Guardsmen, in plate armour with orange livery poked his head in. "Ah, you'd be one of our new…guests would you?" He asked rhetorically. "You have a visitor if you are willing to meet them. A mage, though Captain Aveline vouches for her…"

Harry paused considering, the Captain had mentioned knowing some of the local magicals, perhaps this was one of them? "Sure let her in."

The guard nodded, stepped back out of sight, a murmuring was heard before a…girl? Stepped into the room.

She was without a doubt the strangest girl he'd ever seen, and that was saying something considering he was good friends with Luna Lovegood. She was short, about a head shorter than himself, though she was thin and lithe, as opposed to stocky and broad. She had roughly hewn black hair which was partially braided and the widest pair of big hazel green eyes he'd ever seen. Her elegantly tattooed face was…both angular and soft at the same time, which was an odd contradiction in terms. Her nose more smoothly joined her forehead without being large and obtrusive and her ears…

Harry did a double take looking at the strange young woman. At first he'd thought his eyes were playing tricks on him but the girl stepping into the room with a large staff slung across her back had very definitely pointed ears.

Not as big and protruding as Dobby's by any stretch, but very definitely pointed in a way which was clearly not human.

As for her manner of dress…She wore a finely woven green tunic over chainmail and leathers. Her shoulders were clad in small fur pauldrons and a green scarf was wrapped about her neck. On her hands were well woven leather bracers, and on her feet…

He would have called them knee boots had they actually possessed coverings for her feet. He was reminded rather starkly of Luna Lovegood in the way in which she padded through what was essentially a castle in bare feet.

She looked around a moment before her sharp eyes fell on him and she blinked in surprise. "Oh hello, I didn't see you there…"

She paced towards him cautiously. "My name is Merrill, Aveline…the Guard Captain, she suggested I come meet with you. I hope you don't mind me intruding, but I have to say what she told me was intriguing…"

Harry interrupted gently. "I don't mind, and if the Captain suggested you meet us it's probably a good idea, we're not exactly used to this area yet." He assured her, then paused. "I'm sorry, I should introduce myself. I'm Harry Potter."

Merrill bobbed her head in greeting. "Hello messier Potter."

He smiled back at her, something about her sincere attitude really did remind him fondly of his friend back home. Though he did have questions. "I'm glad to meet you Merrill, you can just call me Harry though. I hope you don't mind me asking, but are you an Elf?"

She blinked in surprise at him. "Yes, I am—" She paused considering him curiously. "I assume then that wherever you are from you do not have elves?"

He shook his head. "Not exactly, we have a similar race, though they are very different from your own. I'm sorry if the question was rude, I was just caught off guard." He paused considering, trying to think of a how to improve his first meeting with a member of a strange race. "If I might ask are there any…customs I should observe when speaking with a member of your people, I don't want to accidentally insult you…"

She laughed, clearly startled by his attitude. "You're worried about offending me? That's different!" She said, causing a note of worry to enter his mind. "No, you don't need to worry about customs as I'm effectively a city elf. If I were still among the Dalish you'd need to worry more. And you are not likely to offend me unless you start calling me 'Knife Ear', filthy elf or thieving scum…"

He nodded easily, then bowed to her slightly in thanks, "I'll remember it, thank you Merrill…I'm sorry is there a last name I should know?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm just Merrill now. I used to belong to a couple clans but I'm on my own now."

He nodded, and was about to ask about that when he noticed the flap to the tent lift out of the corner of his eye and Hermione stepped out. He waved to her grabbing her attention. "Hey 'Mione. Have a good rest?" He asked, before indicating the young elf across from him. "This is Merril, and she's an elf. Cool huh?"

Hermione blinked in consternation at Merrill who waved cheerily at her before pacing over. "She tells me that there aren't many traditions we need to worry about as she's what she referred to as a City elf. And that she won't be easily offend so long as we refrain from calling her Knife Ear, filthy elf or thieving scum."

She nodded sagely receiving his message, she wasn't easily offended and so long as they used some common sense nothing they said would cause insult. Also she got the message that there were more kinds of elves and that they were not necessarily treated well considering the slurs he'd just warned her about. He smiled thinly at her. "Not quite like Dobby is she?"

Merrill blinked curiously at the byplay between the two. "I'm sorry what's a Dobby?"

Harry chuckled. "An old friend we will miss dearly, as I told you we don't have elves like you back home, but we do have a species called house elves. They're very different though. Not the least of which is because they're easily knee height at best."

She nodded, fairly goggling at him. "I see, how very strange." She turned her attention to Hermione and bowed slightly at the waist. "Greetings serah. As Harry has told you my name is Merrill. Aveline suggested I come see you…"

Hermione nodded, smiling now as she got over her surprise. "Hello Merrill, I'm Hermione. I'm pleased to meet you. Might I ask why the Captain suggested we see you?"

Merrill smiled at the friendly greeting, a rare thing to receive from a human these days, and she'd just received two such greetings in as many minutes. "It was for a couple reasons really. She mentioned you were mages and were unfamiliar with the area, and thought we might be friends. Also she told me how you got here, and knew I might be able to help you."

The two strangely dressed humans looked at her curiously and she explained. "Oh I'm sorry, I should have led with that I suppose. I just get so frazzled sometimes. She told me about the mirror you came through, and while I don't have a functioning one, I have studied Eluvians…that's the magic mirrors in case you were wondering, extensively in fact!"

Hermione blinked then smiled at her. "Ah, it's no problem Merrill, and I can't tell you how glad we are to hear that somebody knows about how we got here."

Harry nodded firmly. "Yeah, you have no idea what a relief it is…"

"Perhaps we should invite her inside, it'll be more comfortable to talk about such things in the tent rather than out here." Hermione suggested.

Her friend shrugged easily, "Sure, could use a spot of tea anyways. Would you like some as well Merrill?"

She looked doubtfully at their little tent but nodded not wanting to be impolite. Harry smiled in anticipation, this time he'd get to see someone react to a new magical wonder, instead of the other way around. "Alright this way then." Hermione chuckled no doubt anticipating the same thing.

Harry held the flap open and Hermione ducked through, Merrill hesitated but followed soon after. Harry stepped in behind her just in time to hear her gasp in surprise.

On the outside their little tent was perhaps at most twenty square feet give or take a foot here or there. On the inside however…It was much larger. In fact it was larger than some apartments Harry had visited. It possessed a living room/dining room, kitchen, storage room, washroom and bedroom. Though Hermione had claimed that space at his insistence. He had been bunking on the pullout bed in the living room during their expedition, and so had continued to do so once here. They may have been dating, but they were taking things slow just in case.

Merrill was blinking dumbly at the space before her before whirling, nearly bowling into Harry to stare at the tent flap, before spinning around again nearly tripping over Juno who had come to check her out. "It—that's not possible is it? It was tiny on the outside…but."

Harry just chuckled, "Yeah that's about the same as my reaction when I first saw one of these. Come on take a seat, we'll talk about things, would you still like that tea?"

She nodded slightly at him taking in the space around her. "This is incredible. You—this is magic isn't it? You did this?" She asked as Hermione, smiling led her towards the table. Not knowing Merrill was just realizing this "tent" was many times more luxurious than her little hovel down in the alienage.

"Not myself no, I was given this tent for my expedition before we left home." Hermione explained. "Though I am capable of the magic necessary to expand a space like this."

Merrill still blinked at the world around her as she sat with thump in the seat offered, before coming back to herself a bit, and noticing the dog now looking at her expectantly beside her. "Oh, that's Juno, don't mind her. She's very well behaved." Harry assured her.

She nodded tentatively reaching out to pet the dog's head. "She's beautiful…I'm sorry there's so many questions I want to ask you, but what kind of dog is she, I haven't seen one quite like her…"

Harry just smiled, he knew how she felt, he'd felt that way enough times over the years. "She's a Border Collie, though she's been magically enhanced to be smart enough to be a familiar. Not that Collies aren't smart enough as is…."

She scratched the dog's head nodding. "She's like a mabari then? They're magically intelligent warhounds native to Ferelden."

Harry shrugged. "Sounds about right, though Juno's not a warhound, just a companion."

Merrill nodded, then gave a start as Hermione returned depositing a steaming cup of tea in front of her. She stared at it a bit. "It's warm, but how do you—" She looked about then spotted the stove in the kitchen. "You have a stove, but what about the smoke, I didn't see a pipe on your tent…"

"The magic of the tent vanishes the smoke Merrill don't worry. Be careful drinking that, it's fairly warm." Hermione cautioned sitting herself down after handing off a cup to Harry.

Merrill eyed the cup speculatively before smiling, "I'm sorry I knew I should expect the unusual around you, Aveline told me about the chair. I guess I just didn't expect you to keep surprising me even beyond that!"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, we don't really know what magic here is capable of, we just do what we've always done…"

Merrill smiled in understanding. "Of course, and I have no doubt mages here could do this too if they thought to, but most are too busy trying to cook Templars or hide from Demons to bother inventing…"

"Demons?" Harry asked curiously before shaking his head sharply. "Sorry, as you can tell we have our questions too, but we've gone a bit off topic."

Merrill nodded, and the two humans didn't know it but she was wondering how it was that they could not know of Demons. "Yes, that's right, I'm sorry too. You wanted to hear what I know about Eluvians…" She said taking a tentative sip of the warm tea whilst settling into her surprisingly comfortable seat.

"Eluvians are elven magic," She started simply, as she got into her element. "They date back to the time of Arlathan, the ancient elven empire thousands of years ago. Back in that time, my people ruled the world and humans were relatively primitive…er—no offence."

Harry just chuckled. "None taken, we're not from around here, and besides until fairly recently humans back home could be considered relatively primitive too."

She nodded her thanks. Then continued. "The elven empire, if the stories are true was not connected by roads, but by Eluvians. Mirrors which allowed one to step from one city or settlement to another with barely a pause. They, the ancient elves that is, were capable of great feats of magic, and were said to be immortal. But when the empire eventually fell to the humans of Tevinter…much was lost. Elves became mortal, our people scattered when our cities fell, and our magic became diminished. We fled south, and attempted to start anew, but the rising human empires did not trust the elves…."

She sighed sadly. "It is a long miserable tale, and you did not come here to hear it, but the elves civilization no longer exists in any meaningful way, and the Eluvians are another forgotten magic from a bygone age. I'm the only person I know who has studied them at any length. And I likely wouldn't have done that much if my clan hadn't lost some of our number through one."

She saw their intent expressions and elaborated a bit. "The Mirror was hidden in a ruin near where we had camped. Some of our scouts happened across it only to vanish when they interacted with it. That mirror was damaged because of it. I spent many years trying to repair the mirror, and yet despite knowing some of my clan managed to use it, I cannot open it. Each mirror is different, what works for one does not work for another, and something changed in this mirror when I repaired it…"

Harry and Hermione nodded solemnly. "So you're telling us that you have a mirror but that you don't think it will help us." Hermione clarified.

Merrill nodded soberly. "Yes, I'm sorry. I'd be willing to show it to you though, perhaps with your magic you'll have more luck than I?"

Harry nodded. "We can try. Though as I understand it from what you were telling us, it is unlikely to lead to the same place the mirror we came through did. It likely won't lead back home?"

She nodded, "Yes, the mirrors all linked to another at a specific location. Some directly but most through a place known only as the crossroads. It was said Arlathan, the capital that is, had a great building housing hundreds of mirrors leading to every corner of the empire, the fade, the crossroads and beyond…But it was destroyed during the siege of the city…"

Harry and Hermione nodded. "Well, I'd say seeing your mirror would be a start, though maybe you can show us around a bit too, if we can't get your mirror to work we should at least learn our way around a bit."

Merrill nodded happily. "I'd be glad to show you around, and to show you the mirror. Er—I hope you don't mind though, my home is a bit well… it's not very nice compared to your tent…" She admitted shamefacedly.

Harry smiled gently at her. Though it was Hermione who spoke "Don't worry about it Merrill, I'm sure we'll manage fine. Now was there anything else you'd like to talk about before we go do all that?"

Merrill considered, there were in fact hundred of questions she wanted to ask. But she knew they didn't have all day, and the two were likely eager to see if her mirror could send them home. She'd have to content herself with a couple of the more pressing ones. Or at least what she considered pressing. "Do you like Kirkwall?" She asked suddenly. "I mean, I wasn't sure I liked it at first when I arrived here, it's so big, and dirty…and smells bad if I'm being honest. But It's not so bad now that I'm used to it and know my way around."

Harry chuckled. "Can't say we've seen all that much of it. We arrived in that shop…The Black Emporium Captain Aveline called it? And nearly got mugged by some thugs when we got out of the sewers. Then the Templars wanted to arrest us, but Aveline called them off with that Knight Captain of theirs and led us up here…"

She nodded sagely. "Well I look forward to hearing what you think once you've seen a bit of it. Just two more questions before we go if you don't mind that is?"

They shook their heads. "You mentioned House Elves, that they were different from us, could you tell me about them?"

Here Harry sighed loudly, drawing a playful glare from Hermione, Harry explained. "You're in for it now. This is her favourite topic." He pushed to his feet, and Hermione frowned at him.

"Where are you going?" she asked looking put out.

"To get something for us to eat, this is going to take a while…" He said playfully.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. As stated in the author's note up top, notification emails for PMs is not working right now on FF, as such if you want to see if I replied to your review (should you post one) you'll need to check the site periodically.


	20. OLD Harry PotterDragon Age Idea 2

**Author's Note:** As ever I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Merrill truly didn't know what to make of these two humans who now followed her carefully through the Lowtown market. They were magically powerful, and apparently came from a society of mages who used magic in ways she'd never dreamed of. They _seemed_ kind, and yet she was very confused by them. Which in fairness was not a hugely strange state of being for Merrill.

She'd met very few humans who showed the kind of courtesy they did, being an elf as she was. And they spoke of things she'd either never thought of or which sounded downright outlandish and possibly insane.

To add to her confusion, they apparently either did not know what demons were, or were surprised that she and apparently other mages considered them a threat. She'd need to investigate that more closely. As a Dalish Elf she did not have the same hangups about magic, the Fade and spirits, that those who followed the Chantry did. Even still her kind considered demons a very real and persistent threat when utilizing their magic. That these two very normal looking humans did not, was surprising.

They also seemed…both impressed and underwhelmed by Kirkwall at the same time, and it was the largest city Merrill had ever seen!

When she had taken them out to the balcony in the market district of Hightown to look out over the city, they been less impressed by the size than by some of the more eccentric aspects of the cities construction. The Gallows, the statues in the harbour and the great chains. When she'd asked about it, they had merely stated that people didn't tend to make chains, or statues that big where they came from, and that considering the level of technology—whatever that was—they were surprised to see a building as large as the Gallows Fortress.

That had got her thinking, whatever this _technology_ was, they were clearly used to a version of it which was…more, than what Kirkwall had, something that allowed them to easily construct buildings the size of the Gallows. And yet their people _didn't_ build statues or chains on the scale they did in Kirkwall. Odd.

Finally as they were exiting Hightown she'd given in to her curiosity and asked them a question which had been bothering her since that conversation. "Does Kirkwall seem very large to you?"

Harry and Hermione had both shaken there heads, though Hermione had paused before explaining. "For a city of this level of development, Kirkwall is actually fairly large compared to most of the cities back home in our past. However most of the cities where we come from are bigger than this."

"Mythal!" she'd exclaimed, "Your cities must be very large then! Only a few cities in Thedas are bigger than Kirkwall!"

The others had just nodded their heads agreeably. "How large was the city you were from Hermione?" Merrill asked curious. Something in the way Hermione had spoken suggested she lived in such cities herself.

"I lived in London before coming here…and London is large even by our standards, though not the largest in the known world. It covers, not counting some of the outlying cities and towns which don't quite connect with it, just over fifteen hundred square kilometres and is home to roughly thirteen and a half million people."

Merrill had just about tripped when she heard that and turned to stare at the human who was looking at her with a bemused, but sincere expression. "Are you serious, you're not teasing me are you?" She asked a touch suspiciously.

Hermione shook her head, and then Harry nodded agreement. "She's telling the truth, London is huge. I lived on its outskirts most of my life."

Merrill could hardly conceive of a place that large. "Thirteen million people?" she whispered."And that's not even the largest city you know of?"

Hermione shook her head, looking mildly amused now. "Tokyo Japan, which has the largest metropolitan population in the world covers over fourteen thousand square kilometres and has nearly thirty seven million people living in it."

Merrill couldn't believe it, more and more she was beginning to understand that these two really were from some other world. "Creators…how many people lived where you came from, your world I mean, it must have been extremely busy!"

Hermione thought on that. "At last counting, the number of humans living in the entire world sat at around seven and a half billion. Though that number isn't exact, people are being born too fast to keep a current number accurate for more than a moment or two. And yes…Earth, the world we're from is filling up fast."

She blinked at them shaking her head. "I can't even imagine…"

That had basically drowned out her thoughts for a good while until they reached the landing just outside the Hanged Man. "This is Varric's favourite pub, he says the drinks are awful but it's a nicer place than the stuffy ones up in Hightown…" She trailed off uncertain what to say to them now. How could anything she showed them compare with what they had left behind?

"Ah, particular about their patrons are they?" Harry asked, happily enough smiling up at the wooden statue hanging by its foot above the door.

"Yes, most won't allow elves…the only one which will allow anybody, is the Blooming Rose, and it isn't the sort of place you take your friends….unless you're Isabella." She agreed, slightly cheered as she noted that neither Harry nor Hermione, seemed to look all that harshly upon the world around them despite how different it was from the home they described. In fact they seemed mildly intrigued by most of it.

"Oh, not a nice bar?" Harry asked.

She shook her head. "No, it's just…well the drinks are said to be good but people go there to buy other things…" She saw their curious and suspicious looks and decided to just admit what the place was. "It's a brothel."

The two human's eyes widened in surprise, and she couldn't help but giggle a little, apparently these two were not the sort to visit such a place. Isabella would have been disappointed.

"Yes, we'll most certainly not be going there." Hermione sniffed in disapproval.

"Definitely not," Harry agreed hurriedly. Earning a slight approving look from Hermione. "Thanks for the warning Merrill."

She nodded amiably, then started leading them away again, down through Lowtown's housing towards the alienage. She frowned up at the sky as they descended, things were clouding up. A shame that.

Finally they made it through the dirty streets, only once stopping when a guard asked if they'd seen anything suspicious. They'd told him no, and had continued on their way soon enough. It was even true, Kirkwall's streets were fairly quiet, a combination of the Templars roaming around, the guards who had been whipped into fine shape by Aveline, and Hawkes vigilant efforts the years previous. People were always a bit shady in Lowtown it was true, but they'd seen nothing worthy of comment while they traveled today.

Upon entering the alienage Hermione had paused staring about, a strange look on her face, it was enough to give her friend a worried expression and have Merrill asking what was wrong. "When I'd heard the term alienage, I'd thought it odd, after all it means a place in which to be alien, an outsider. But I'd hoped it was just a district which was set aside for those who wanted their own community…This though…"

Merrill nodded, understanding, the alienage was not a very nice place, the elves living in it did their best but the Viscount's men had never cared for it much, and before Aveline it had been entirely un-watched. In times past slavers had openly entered the district and kidnapped elves from their homes. Those days were gone but it was still not a pleasant place.

"It's a ghetto, a slum." Harry grumbled sourly. "Nobody should have to live like this."

Merrill couldn't help but feel slightly buoyed by that attitude, it was a sentiment she'd felt many times before. "No they shouldn't, but that is the world we live in. Perhaps someday it will change, but for now…"

The others nodded understanding, she wasn't lying down and accepting what was happening to her people, but she knew that right now, with things as they were no efforts could succeed in truly improving the relationship between elves and the rest of the world. But she clearly hoped that someday that would change enough to make a start on matters.

She led them across the main courtyard of the district. "This is the Vhendahl tree, it's a symbol of the elves living in alienages around Thedas. A touchstone with the old elven empire. A time when we were free."

The other's eyed the tree with interest. "It's not exactly the same but we saw a similar tree in the ruins where we found the Eluvian." Hermione admitted doing her best to emulate the accents on the foreign word. "If a mirror was there and so was one of these trees, it may be a safe bet that the ruins we found were elven in origin."

Merrill nodded, tentatively agreeing with the notion, before indicating a door not far away. "This way please, my home is just over here."

The two humans followed her across to the door and she took out her key, turning it in the lock before opening the thin wooden door. She ushered them inside and then followed them in.

She smiled apologetically at them as she watched them look around. When compared with their tent it really was the barest hovel… "Thank you for agreeing to come, I know you have an interest in my Eluvian, but…still I appreciate you agreeing to take a look at it, and here of all places."

Hermione smiled at her. "It's very nice Merrill, you clearly take good care of your home."

"Thank you, would you like anything to drink, I've got— water?" She admitted sheepishly, she'd had a similar conversation with Hawke a long time ago.

"That's fine Merrill, you needn't worry on our behalf. Would you like to show us the mirror?" Harry offered, after sharing a brief look with Hermione.

Here Merrill paused. "Er—if you don't mind I should really clean up my room, that's where I keep it. I don't have visitors there…ever really." she noted absently. Hawke had seen it once or twice when visiting, but that was all. She'd had no lovers with whom she would have shared it. And aside from Hawke had no friends she knew well enough to allow within it.

It was an odd feeling to think she was about to allow two relative strangers in to examine one of her most prized possessions.

They voiced their understanding and settled in to wait while she went to clean up. She chased out a pair of rats, kicked the worst of the dust to the corners, threw a fireball into the metal bucket in the privy to clean it out…lit some candles and stuffed some of the stray straw lying around back into the haphazard mattress she used. Finally she nodded in satisfaction and opened her door, ushering the two human mages into her room.

Their eyes immediately fixed on the mirror, not that she could blame them and they gravitated to it. "This isn't its original frame I'm afraid," Merrill admitted. "That one was destroyed when it was damaged. I placed the same enchantments on it that the original had, but it still wont work. I had to do a lot of…hard things, to get it repaired."

Hermione was nodding pacing around the Eluvian. "We tried to repair the one back in the ruins, but nothing worked on it, how did you manage?"

"Ancient elven tools my clan kept for sentimental value." She indicated the devices rest on a barrel next to the mirror. And a great deal of—" she paused then sighed, knowing she'd need to take this leap if she were to explain. "A great deal of blood magic to purge the taint and other influences from the shards."

Hermione looked up sharply, and for a moment Merrill braced herself for a rebuke, but the girl only looked sideways at Harry who looked interested. "Do many mages use blood magic here?" He asked curiously. "It's not terribly common back home."

She shook her head, relieved they had yet to fly off the handle. "No, the Chantry forbids it, and in truth many mages are not ready for the costs associated with using it. It is dangerous after all."

Harry nodded, "Yes, I've looked into it, at least back home not many use it because it's so volatile. You can get enough magic from it to barely light a candle one try, and the next you get enough that you burn yourself out. It's generally only used in extreme situations." He noted sadly. And she wondered what his experience with it had been. Again he'd failed to mention the threat of demons. And she believed she had just the method by which to safely broach the topic.

"I tried everything I could think of to fix it, even then when I finally got it like this I couldn't get it working. I tried seeking guidance, but I was stopped before I could ask the demon what I needed to know."

This drew more worried looks, she guessed that while their people had little experience with demons, what little experience they had was negative. "Is dealing with demons common here?" Hermione asked more cautiously.

She laughed darkly. "No, again the Chantry forbids it, and if they find out about it kill anyone who dares even speak with them." Her tone conveying the message they needed to keep what she'd told them to themselves, clearly. "And even those of us outside the Chantry do not commune with them lightly. They are exceedingly dangerous beings, and a constant threat to all who use the Fade. A chance you take only at direst need."

Hermione looked pensive at that. "I can't say many people dare meet with demons anymore back home either. Those suspected of it were indeed killed back in the day. Add to that, demon's reputations as tricksters and liars…"

Merrill nodded, "They are tricksters and liars, and who can blame them, they are trapped in the Fade. Forced to eke out an existence feeding off the stray emotions of the living which filter into that realm. They want out, at any cost, they are what happens when emotions and intents become twisted."

The humans nodded understanding, but clearly didn't have any experience worrying about demons themselves. "You've mentioned the Fade a few times," Hermione stated. "Can you explain what it is?"

Merrill marvelled at them, how could they not know of the Fade? "The Fade is a…another world, which is separated from our own by the veil. It is an ever shifting realm of dreams and magic, it is the place from which all mages draw their magic for spells. It is also the reason why mages are feared. It is the realm of demons, and many mages are not skilled enough to avoid their traps or deny their temptations. Many attempt to draw on a demon's power directly, only to find like so many others that they are not strong enough, and realize too late they've let the demon in. Those who allow a demon in are changed." She paused considering the humans who looked at her curiously.

"Weaker demons with less control twist and warp their hosts into what are known as abominations, stronger more talented demons can hide, hold a mortal form for some time, sometimes indefinitely. Though should they wish to use their strength they must resume their true form. They are very dangerous…Nobody fights a demon lightly."

Hermione in particular looked fascinated, and worried. "Strange, you draw your magic from _outside_ yourself?" She asked sounding enthralled by the notion.

Merrill nodded confused, perhaps these humans were just crazy? That would certainly explain a lot, though it would be something of a shame considering she found herself liking them. "Where else would I draw it from?"

Hermione hesitated. "Where we come from, people draw from many sources, blood magic, yes, but rituals too, some which siphon off ambient magical energy, even from souls in very extreme cases…. ley lines, though that is rare," Again an odd look passed between her and Harry. "But the most common place witches and wizards draw from back home is from their magical core." She saw Merrill's astonished look and explained.

"A person's magical core draws from the wellspring of power within their own soul. It constantly refills as you replenish your body, and varies widely in depth…Some, like Harry's are very large and refill quickly making them powerful. Others are shallow and slow to refill, making them less so."

Merrill stared at them wide eyed. "You don't draw from the Fade, at all? T-That's amazing! How is that possible? I've never heard of anything like that."

Hermione looked intrigued, as she contemplated the notion. "I don't know, but it makes me wonder how different magic is here, from magic back home. If we get the chance we should look into it…" She glanced at Harry who had been pacing around the mirror. "Any luck?"

"No, no carvings I can see except the enchantments, and without knowing this thing's password or whatever I can't see us opening it the normal way…Want me to try some parseltongue on it?"

Merrill felt like she'd been tumbled down the stairs in a barrel, she had no idea what half the things these two said actually meant, but all of it sounded fascinating.

"Sure it couldn't hurt…although," She turned to Merrill, "You may want to step outside for a minute, just in case this does work, you don't want to get pulled along for the ride should we get sucked through again…"

Merrill's eyes widened, and she nodded hurriedly, as fascinating as their world sounded it also sounded horribly frightening. She didn't want to go there if she could avoid it. "Yes, of course, call to me if it works and you are still here though yes?"

Hermione nodded smiling, "Of course Merrill, and just in case this does suck us through, thank you for all the help." She said hefting her bag onto her shoulder. Harry did the same with the bag which held a packed their packed up tent in it and Merrill quickly beat feet from the room.

Sadly she heard a pair of disappointed voices calling her back a minute or two later. The two of them were unslinging their bags again as she entered. "No luck then?" She said sorrowfully, as much for her vain hope of activating her mirror, as in sympathy for their plight.

Harry shook his head. "No, we'll either need to find a way to open this one or find another mirror which is easier to open. Surely they can't all be locked if your people used them as a common method of transport."

Merrill shrugged, she honestly had no idea either way. "I searched the ruins where this Eluvian was hidden extensively, I found nothing telling of how to use it. I've also had to make do with what records and tales my people have either been able to keep themselves or trade from others. I'm sure there are proper records and instructions out there somewhere though…there may even be an open Eluvian if you know where to look—"

Hermione nodded agreeably. "Any ideas where?"

The little elf sighed, slumping to sit on the edge of her bed. "No, as far as records and instructions go they could be anywhere, a forgotten tome in a cave somewhere, or on a shelf in some dusty old ruin in some lost forest…much of what was in Arlathan itself was either burned in the fires or pillaged by the Tevinter Imperium and I'd really rather not venture there."

Harry and Hermione looked at her curiously. "Oh, why not?" Hermione asked.

She blew out a slow breath. "The Tevinter Imperium is a very cruel and corrupt place, they unlike the rest of Thedas, actively take and keep slaves. I think they would have been cast down by the other empires for that alone if not for…well a couple things really."

"They are still, despite their somewhat diminished state these days, a very large, powerful and wealthy people, almost as big as Orlais in terms of lands and wealth. They also have the largest population of unshackled mages in Thedas and currently fulfill the very important role of keeping the Qunari away from the rest of Thedas."

Harry snorted in amusement, "Now I know how you must feel talking with us some times, I understood a fraction of that."

She smiled a bit at his understanding. "All you need to know is that it would be a very bad place for a free elven mage like me to go, and that they are very unfriendly to outsiders. As for the Qunari…They're big, grouchy grey skinned giants with horns. Who wouldn't understand the concept of fun if it came up and bit them on the…backside" she finished weakly. She really had been spending a lot of time around Varric and Isabella.

"They attempted to take over Kirkwall a couple years ago, I find them fascinating, but a little frightening as well." She admitted thoughtfully.

"Okay, so Tevinter, where ever it is, is a bad idea. We'll put that lower on the list. You said there might be ruins where other eluvie-thingies are?" Harry asked.

Merrill giggled lightly in amusement as Hermione huffed indignantly. "Honestly Harry, it's Eluvians, it doesn't do to mispronounce—"

Merrill snickered, seeing Harry's fondly put-upon face at Hermione's chastising tone. Clearly these two had been together a long time. They certainly acted like an old married couple. Isabella would have been asking them who was better in bed by now she was sure.

"I know, and I'm sorry. You too Merrill, I didn't mean to make light of your people's artifacts. But my question stands."

Merrill nodded getting back on task. "Yes, there are many Elven ruins out there. Though most are empty or have long since been stripped of anything of worth. Most are to the north in the Tevinter Imperium around what was the heart of the old "Elvhen" empire. Some are to the west near the Anderfels, some, just a small number are to the east in Antiva. Most of the rest are south however, in Ferelden and Orlais.

"Which would be our best bet do you think?" Harry asked.

Merrill considered that. "Antiva is closer but the ruins there have been heavily raided by fortune hunters, they also tend to run off Dalish Elves so I don't know much about them anyways. The ruins near the Anderfels and in northwestern Orlais are sparse, but large, I suppose you could try there…However most of the ruins I know of are in the Brecelian forest in Ferelden, or spread throughout the Dales in Orlais. There were a few others I believe scattered throughout the mainland of both countries. Orlais, tolerates elves, though Ferelden is better in that regard. It is said King Alistair is on good terms with the clans in his lands."

The two humans across from her absorbed that, then Hermione spoke. "What about records that have already been collected, aside from Tevinter some must survive somewhere?"

She nodded, "Certainly, a great number likely exist in the archives of most nations, and more in the circle towers. Those that haven't been pillaged by rebel mages or marauding Templars that is." She noted a touch wanly. "I've already searched the archives here with some help from my friends. I even learned a little more than what I knew before."

Harry huffed tiredly pulling up one of her chairs and sitting. Hermione however was pacing. "It sounds to me then that our best bet would be one of the larger empires, from what you have said and what I remember of that map Captain Aveline showed us, aside from Tevinter those would be Orlais and Ferelden correct?"

She nodded dutifully. And Hermione resumed her pacing. "Assuming nothing else we can think of gets this Eluvian working, I can see nothing else for it but to go searching in those places you mentioned. It won't be an easy trip. Judging by the scale of that map Aveline showed us it is a great distance to those southern nations…We'll need supplies, a guide, maps and money—probably best to fly although…we don't have many brooms with us. I think that—"

Harry cut her off chuckling, while smiling fondly at her. "We have supplies Hermione, we were outfitted to explore that ruin for months if need be, though I don't think they intended to keep us there that long… And we have gold, you know my habits regarding that. True we'll need a map, but I assume you can buy one of those somewhere here…"

Merrill nodded agreeably, a thought entering her head, though she'd need to think on that a bit more later. "There are many sold at the merchants guild, my friend Varric has contacts there. And I'm sure you could hire a guide easily enough…Did you mention flying?" She asked as what Hermione had said permeated her brain.

Harry shrugged. "She did, but it's true we don't have enough brooms to carry us easily, not unless one of us doesn't mind being trapped in the tent for hours on end while it's packed up on the other's back while they fly. And I know how Hermione hates flying."

She stuck her tongue out at him, which had Merrill laughing again. "Well, if that's not an option, though it sounds interesting…" _Flying on brooms? Imagine!_ "There's always carriage, or going by boat. The Harbour has boats going to Ferelden or Orlais most weeks. The only other options are by foot or horse around to the west of the waking sea, or by braving the Deep Roads. Which I wouldn't recommend, it's awful down there!" She exclaimed sincerely before blushing at her outburst.

"The Deep Roads?" Harry asked curiously.

"Tunnels which go between the old Dwarven cities and thiags, most of them are overrun by Darkspawn or collapsed. It's more direct true, but very dangerous."

Harry chuckled, "And again I understood half of that. Don't worry, you can tell us about those later. I need a break while I try and absorb everything."

She nodded understanding. "Well…as you seem to have most of the things you need for a trip sorted, I suppose I could show you up to the merchant's guild they'll have a map for you!"

Hermione nodded, smiling fondly at her. "Thank you Merrill, that would be appreciated."

Merrill smiled, though internally she was feeling a touch sad. It sounded like her new friends would be leaving soon. Then it'd just be her Varric and Aveline, and Aveline was busy most of the time…And she hadn't had the chance to ask half of the questions she wanted to ask them yet!

She sighed, getting to her feet. _Why couldn't things be simple? I miss Hawke…_

* * *

 **Merchant's Guild**

 **Hightown, Kirkwall**

 **Free Marches, Thedas**

Harry gave the dwarf across the counter from him a hard look. "You're telling me that to get the best map you have is one hundred gold coins?"

The dwarf nodded smugly. "Yeah, you ain't got enough money for that too bad, we ain't running a charity here." He grumped in an accent which sounded distinctly like he'd come from across the pond back home.

Harry looked the dwarf in the eye then snorted. "Pardon me for saying so but, nug-shite." He said borrowing a swear he'd heard one of the many dwarves at the guild hall use. "I know for a fact you can get a fifteen by fifteen map at half that detail for five. And no you can't convince me that the extra five inches and detail are worth ninety five more gold coins." He growled, as the dwarf looked nervous seeing Harry's tirade had drawn attention.

"Also, while I know perfectly well dwarves are resistant to magic, don't think for a second I can't explode your head if I'm willing to tire myself out a little." Harry said conjuring a ball of magic into his hands and tossing it back and forth meaningfully. He was grateful to Merrill for that little primer on dwarves, though he hadn't really needed it. The Dwarves back home were similar in almost every way. Short, grumpy, magic resistant and apparently overly fond of gold.

He wouldn't have really exploded the dwarf's head of course, that would have been all sorts of wrong, but he wasn't above threatening a crook into giving him a fair deal. He pushed one last bit for good measure. "Of course if I raise my voice a little more and speak my suspicions about what you are doing to a room full of Dwarven warriors, businessmen and some I suspect are sneak thieves I'm sure they'd take a closer at their own dealings with you."

The Dwarf may have already been pale before, but now he was white as a sheet. He cleared his throat noisily after a moment looking about cautiously, noting some of the others casually shifting closer to overhear what the fuss was. "Of course sir, my mistake, I read you the wrong figure…Er—twenty sovereigns. That's for the best map we have available, thirty by thirty with incredible detail, it's what we use for our own guild meetings. Even marks trade routes instead of just the normal carriage roads!" He said hurriedly.

Harry nodded easily. "Show me one of those in comparison to the smaller version, if I'm satisfied I'll pay an extra two on top of the stated price for your time."

The Dwarf nodded, easing slightly. At least he'd make a small profit off this (apparently not so ignorant) foreigner. "Of course sir, I'll be right back."

He looked sideways at Hermione who had been leaning against the counter a short way away, she rolled her eyes at him in amusement then smiled. She knew as well as he did that had the dwarf forced the issue he would have been forced to fold. But the Dwarf hadn't known that.

A couple minutes later the dwarf returned. and unrolled a large map on a table more centrally located in the room, handing the smaller sample across to Harry to compare against it. It really was a good map…for one made with pen and ink. The detail was good and there were certainly more roads and settlements listed. Someone had even gone to the trouble of dying various sections to accurately depict the environs of each area. _Note to self stay away from the putrid grey area in the south west…._

"This will do," Harry agreed, and proceeded to dole out the agreed upon amount, which the Dwarf took in relief. " _Pleasure_ doing business with you." Harry said pointedly before stepping away from the counter and nodding his head to Hermione as she joined him. He handed her the map and she examined it as they walked.

"Explode his head?" She asked chuckling as they paced slowly towards the door.

He shrugged. "I was improvising…It just felt right, and besides it worked didn't it?"

She nodded agreeably as they made their way out into the daylight of Hightown. Where to their surprise they found Merrill, looking quite distraught as she spoke in a hushed voice with Aveline.

Sobering at the worried look on their new friend's face, they marched over to her as Hermione carefully folded their new map and stowed it in her bag. "Captain Aveline, is something wrong?" Harry asked as he approached.

She looked up and nodded to them as Merrill turned away looking uncertain. "In a word, yes. You likely had no way of knowing it, but you are not the only…unusual visitors Kirkwall has had of late, though these others are not so foreign as yourselves." She explained tiredly. "They are known as the Seekers of Truth, and are in essence the chantry's method of watching over the Templars and Mages. I do not know if you have heard any details, but they have reason to be very upset right now. In large part due to…unsettled events in Kirkwall recently."

Harry was nodding. "Merrill was mentioning the Qunari attempted to seize Kirkwall a couple years ago?"

She nodded, though pursed her lips as she did so. "Yes, and if only that were the entirety of our troubles. Not a year later, tensions between the local circle of magi and the Templars. Neither side was entirely blameless, no matter what some would tell you. In the end it erupted into full conflict between the two factions right here in the city." She shook her head. "That would have been bad enough if not for—"

"If not for Anders." Merrill mumbled sadly.

"Anders?" Hermione asked.

Aveline looked uncomfortable. "A—former associate, and a very troubled individual. An apostate mage, though that was not what set him apart, he was partially possessed by a spirit. Over time he and it twisted each other's personalities beyond recognition as I understand it. At some point following the Qunari uprising, when tensions were at their highest between the Templars and Mages he got it into his damned fool head to destroy the chantry here in Kirkwall blowing apart a large portion of eastern Hightown. You may have noticed the gates on the far side of the district are sealed, that is because there is nothing but ruins beyond."

She paused considering, while Harry and Hermione shook their heads at the tragedy. "Ander's confessed what he had done to his friends and was executed for his crimes, but…it was too late to stop the Templars from attempting to annul the Circle. The fighting here ended when a friend of myself and Merrill, Marian Hawke fought and killed the leaders of both factions forcing an armistice. The rebel mages fled and the Templars have remained to pick up the pieces."

"Unfortunately it hasn't ended there." Aveline grumbled. "The rebellion among the mages has spread, and distrust for them is at a height I've never seen. The Templars here are…only under control because Knight Captain Cullen has been so conscientious. Other Templars have not been so controlled. Things are rapidly deteriorating between the Mages of Thedas and everyone else. So the Seekers came to investigate what really happened."

Harry nodded, understanding so far. "Unfortunately, in order to enact their plan to start curtailing the violence, they have needed to…borrow a couple key people from Kirkwall for their mission." Adeline continued, looking worriedly to Merrill.

"They have _conscripted_ Knight Captain Cullen and promoted him to the rank of Knight Commander, though it was notable they didn't say Knight Commander of what exactly. Last I saw him he was no longer wearing Templar plate. They are also leaving with a friend of ours Varric Tethras. A Dwarf. Now that might not seem like much, but it has a deeper effect than you know."

"House Tethras, what there is of it, has been spending a judicious amount of coin to influence people to stay calm here in Kirkwall, and as much as I might sometimes wish it otherwise many people listen to and respect Varric. With him leaving, and Cullen being replaced by another Templar, the entire political landscape has shifted."

"And another friend of mine will have left…" Mumbled Merrill, Aveline frowned wanly at her before patting her comfortingly on the shoulder.

"The new Knight Captain of Kirkwall is a Templar by the name of Agatha. Not a bad sort, but she's not Cullen either. She doesn't want her men murdering Mages in the streets should they be found, but she also doesn't believe it safe to have mages within Kirkwall at this time. It is her…considered opinion that an official edict be given banning all mages from the city. Now, she may be possible to talk around should I call in several favours, but until I do Merrill will be forced to leave the city."

Harry sighed and Hermione looked saddened. It was a complex and dangerous situation. And Harry at least could see both sides of it, though he suspected Hermione did too. The city was, beneath the deceptively calm surface a powder keg of high emotion and factional tension. Knight Captain Agatha likely truly believed the best solution was to separate the quarrelling parties by forcing the Mages to stay away. Unfortunately that didn't help Merrill.

He eyed the Captain carefully. "My guess is that while Merrill is your friend you're hesitant to burn what political capitol you have allowing her to stay. Am I right?"

She sighed and nodded. "As much as it pains me to say it, yes. The situation in Kirkwall is tenuous, and despite the good work I've done here my own placement as Guard Captain is equally so. In order to maintain law and order within the city I need every favour I can get my hands on to keep it together. If needs be I will use those favours to allow Merrill to stay though should she wish it."

Harry winced, by asking that question aloud he'd put a heavy burden on Merrill, and she clearly realized it considering how she'd sagged. He looked to Hermione hoping for guidance and wasn't disappointed, she glanced at Merrill pointedly then looked to him brushing his mind briefly and flashing him the message she wished to convey.

His eyes widened, then he smiled as he saw the elegance of that solution. It was strange they were going to suggest this, being so newly acquainted with Merrill but it was a good plan, and she had seemed trustworthy enough. "Perhaps we can help?" He suggested, and Aveline looked to him skeptically.

"I'm sorry, but I don't see how, unless you have managed to somehow curry the favour of several major groups within the city in the little time you've been here…"

He shook his head. "Sorry, no. But that wasn't what I meant. I meant we might be able to help Merrill out."

She and Merrill looked to them curiously, and he explained. "You see thanks to our discussion with Merrill and our investigation into the mirror, we now believe that unless we get absurdly lucky and manage to stumble upon the exact method to open the thing by accident, that we'll need to leave the city ourselves and go searching for either an open Eluvian elsewhere, or records detailing how to open one which is closed." He explained patiently.

"As skilled as me and Hermione are in our own world, we know next to nothing in this world and have next to no allies. It would benefit us to have a guide who is familiar not only with Thedas as a place, but with the traditions of its people, particularly the elves. Merrill would fit that bill nicely. If our formal request for her assistance helps her out too, all the better as she's been nothing but good to us since we met."

Merrill blinked owlishly at them, something which came very naturally considering the girl's default wide eyes, and Aveline nodded slowly, "That could work, though it would be up to Merrill. Who I would warn to be cautious if she accepts. You seem decent sorts, but you are still relative strangers."

Merrill nodded understanding, before looking back to Harry and Hermione thoughtfully. Though she looked doubtful as well. "You would really want me to come along?"

Harry blinked, that was…not the question he had been expecting. He wondered how often in her life people had told her to go away or abandoned her? With a lurch he realized that from what he'd heard, the first friends she'd had in years, led by this "Hawke" whomever she was, had been largely forced out of the city already, willingly or unwillingly leaving her behind.

Harry nodded seriously, and Hermione spoke confirming it. "Of course Merrill, we'd love to," She smiled a touch teasingly, "We wouldn't have offered if we thought you were awful."

Merrill smiled briefly before pausing, and pacing to the railing nearby, allowing her to look out over Kirkwall. She stood stalk still, clearly considering for a time, and Harry and Hermione shared a look with Aveline who merely shrugged.

Finally Merrill seemed to come to a decision and nodded, "Yes, I'd like to come with you, if you don't mind that is…" She sighed. "My people don't need me here anymore, and everyone else except Aveline have already left. You however—You want me to come along?"

She sounded almost uncertain before shaking her head as if that notion confused her. "I'd be happy to help you if I can, and besides. Delving into old elven ruins pretty much ensures I'll learn something about my people…I've missed the south. Perhaps this really is for the best."

Harry nodded slowly, not wanting to interrupt while she was working through her thoughts on the matter. Finally speaking when she seemed to have stopped. "Well, if that's decided then, we can start to make arrangements so we can head out. Maybe we can stop and grab some lunch before heading to the docks to look for a ride?"

Merrill nodded, seeming more sure as time passed. "Okay, I hope we can get a big ship this time. The last time I was on a boat we were all packed in on a tiny ship with no room…I was so sick….They told me that larger ships were nicer."

Hermione nodded as she stepped up beside her indicating they should start walking, Merrill did pause and waved goodbye to Aveline after indicating they'd try to come see her one last time before they left so she could say a proper goodbye. Before long they were off in search of food.

* * *

Taarbas, that was his name, that was his purpose. As a member of the Qun his birth name had little meaning, especially among Bas (Outsiders or Infidels), being a long and rather unwieldy set of characteristics and traits as opposed to a name as they would understand it. All had a place in the Qun. But if you became one with the Qun, that is all you were. Another cog in the machine, another muscle in the body. You had purpose, you had place, and to some that was enough. But not for all.

Taarbas was reasonably satisfied with his lot in life, though if you were to actually ask him if that was the case, he wouldn't see the relevance. His role was a simple one, he was what Bas would refer to as a Quartermaster. One who kept track of inventory, handled the care of weapons and armour, and above all, saw to the dispensation and handling of the weapons of the fallen. As was his role here in Kirkwall.

When people thought the word Qunari, they immediately thought big, grey, horned and grumpy. Strictly speaking this was wrong. Any being, of any race, should they submit to the Qun, were Qunari by the definitions of that people. If one were getting technical the species which were the originators of the Qun philosophy and made up the vast bulk of that race, were called Kossith.

What many did not know about Taarbas, was that despite his obvious task, and very existence which followed that name, he had an additional purpose in Kirkwall. A simple one actually. To listen…and then to record, and pass what he had heard along.

Strictly speak this was not spying, he was not ordered to sneak into keeps or interrogate informants, or even kill anyone not in self defence. But he didn't need to do any of those things to pick up a wealth of knowledge.

Taarbas had taken to loitering in the hanged man. Something which would have confused the patrons had they ever payed even a modicum of the right kind of attention. He ate, but he did not drink. He payed, he sat, he listened, and occasionally he'd offer to pay someone to bring him any Qunari weapons they should find. He was nearing the end of his primary task, by the count he kept meticulously all but a handful of his people's weapons had been found and duly turned over for coin. In addition the time allotted for his mission was nearing its end. He, and the pair of very humourless Karasaad warriors who guarded him and the coin allocated for his mission, would be leaving back for more friendly shores soon.

It was very strange to the Qunari, though not unwelcome that these barbarian southerner would allow them to return to their city so soon after they had attempted to seize it by force. But they would not complain, at least this once.

Not that this task was easy by any measure. Many who "owned" captured Qunari weapons refused or were reluctant to part with their prizes. In addition, though those who ran this city allowed them to enter Kirkwall for this task were agreeable. There were a portion of the locals who were not.

Even here in the Hanged Man, a place of relatively relaxed atmosphere, Taarbas and the two Karasaad had taken to wearing some of their armour and carrying their weapons openly to dissuade even more inebriated Bas from troubling them.

Yes, soon his missions would end, but today he'd actually gain a little something to add to his report back to the new Arishok via the Ben-Hassrath. The moment the small elven Saarebas ('Dangerous Thing' or more commonly: Mage) entered the tavern he knew he would have something to report, all sighting of companions, former or current of the one known as Hawke were to be reported. As were their doings. However it was the two who entered with her that gave him pause.

Strangely dressed, human, young and healthy, something about them screamed Saarebas, at least to him. Weaponless, dressed in unusual garments and possessing a confidence disproportionate to their unarmed state.

He listened carefully to what was being said as they passed and grabbed a table. "Yes Merrill larger boats are far more steady than small ones, I'm sure if we can find one in the Harbour, we can probably afford a birth aboard one. If not I'm sure I've got a few potions which will see you through the trip…which reminds me, are their many apothecaries, you know people who sell herbs, and potion reagents?" The female human asked.

The little elven Saarebas nodded, "Oh yes, in fact there's a very good one in the Gallows, it used to service both the Mages and Templars…now it's just the Templars of course, but they still pay well I'm sure."

The male hummed, "Soldiers and magicals…I can see how that would work for them." he paused, and dusted his hands off as he sat. "So, you said this place had good meals? What should we order?"

"Well mostly I have the soups when I'm here, though they do have good meat and potatoes. I try not to ask what the meat of the day is though…Soups it is then? I was always partial to the Antivan chicken soup. It's a little spicy…"

Taarbas nodded mentally to himself, yes you could call the Antivan chicken soup spicy he supposed. Though it hardly rated compared to what was made in Rivaine or Seheron. More interesting however was this talk of resupply for potions making and their discussion of taking ship.

"So Merrill, if we have a choice in the matter where would you prefer us to head first, by ship I mean? Are their any ports you'd rather start from?"

"Not Gwaren," She said firmly, and Taarbas couldn't blame the little Bas. Gwaren was a cold water port in the south of Ferelden, it was one of the more distant ports from Kirkwall and was one of the closest to the lands cursed by the Fifth blight.

"I think we should try for either Denerim, Jader or Val Royeaux."

"What can you tell us about those places?" The male asked curiously, before stopping as the three made an order to the waitress who had wandered up.

The Elf answered once the waitress left. "Denerim is the Capital of Ferelden, and it's largest port. It was badly damaged by all accounts during the blight. However it has begun to heal if the rumours are true. Ferelden is a somewhat…rustic country, though no less powerful for it. They are famous for their fearless warriors, somewhat er—uncouth manner as Sebastian would say, and Mabari warhounds. Many say the entire place smells like wet dog, but that's an exaggeration…thankfully."

"Jader is an Orlesian port city almost exactly on their border with Ferelden just beyond the Frostback mountains. It is perhaps the shortest distance from Kirkwall of the places we wish to go. Not as large as Kirkwall I'm told, though a lot nicer, as a lot of places in Orlais are said to be."

"Val Royeaux is the Orlesian Capital, and is the largest city in that country, it is home to the Orlesian royalty of course, but also to the Chantry leadership. The Divine's palace is there, as is the largest Circle tower in Orlais. It also houses a large garrison of Templars." She paused. "Anyone I've talked to says that anyone of import in Orlais have a home there. If you are hoping to meet powerful people it would be there…"

The male made a rude noise before grunting slightly and murmuring an apology to the female human. "Sorry, it's just I've had more of politicians than I can stomach thank you. Hopefully we won't need to rub elbows with them too often."

There were general sounds of agreement and then a pause as the food arrived. They ate and drank a little, though it was notably only water. The talk turned to generalities and Taarbas went over what he knew. Merrill, an elven Saarebas known to be friends with Hawke was leaving Kirkwall in the company of two suspected human Saarebas, these Saarebas seemed largely ignorant of local custom, food and even the generalities of a large nation such as Orlais. Curious. He would make note of it.

Taarbas was many things, observant even being one of them, but he failed to note the glance the male human threw him as the three exited some time later after paying.

* * *

 **Elven Alienage**

 **Kirkwall, Free Marches**

 **Thedas**

"So," Harry drawled, easily as he watched Juno and Crookshanks caper around the main square of the Alienage under Hermione's watchful eyes. "That was a Qunari was it?"

Merrill looked justifiably confused as she she looked up from a bag she was packing with some of her meagre belongings. Currently she was carefully wrapping a small carved Halla statuette Hawke had given her in one of her blankets. "Where? There's one in the alienage?"

He chuckled, "No, sorry, I was referring to the big guy we saw at the Hanged man." Harry explained. He understood her confusion, that had been hours ago. They had since then been down to the docks to book passage on a ship and returned to Merrill's home.

The ship they had booked was a large Orlesian armed merchant headed for Jader. The captain had tried to hassle Merrill, but Harry had made it clear that was unacceptable to him, and that he could easily take his business to a Rivaini liner across the harbour.

The Captain had brightened somewhat when they'd merely booked their space in the hold and not one of the births, meaning he could easily sell another slot or two for some additional gold. They had pitched tent in the alienage so as to avoid irritating the new Templar Captain. So Captain Aveline's little joke at the Seneschal's expense was short lived.

"Oh yes," Merrill remembered thinking back. "Yes, that was a Qunari."

"Friendly looking fellow," Harry noted dryly. "Not as sneaky as he thinks though, I could tell he was listening in on us. Any ideas why?" He asked.

Merrill, blinked at him for a moment before settling in thoughtfully. Nodding a minute later, "It's because of me, o-or rather I think it's because of Hawke. Oh no that didn't sound right…" She groaned.

Harry raised a hand to stop her, "Don't worry I understand. You're not blaming your friend." He assured the little elf. Then chewed his cheek lightly before speaking again. "That's a name I've been hearing a lot since coming here. Hawke. Who was she?"

Merrill started to speak, an almost eager look on her face, then stopped, and looked thoughtful. "It's easy to find people who will tell you the…heroic version of Hawke. The version Varric tells in those wonderful books of his. Oh—" She sighed. "But it is not so simple as that, and I do not know that I could tell you what you should know. Not easily."

Harry nodded soberly, a surprising look of sympathy on his face. "I think I get what you're saying Merrill. I have been at the centre of my own adventures once upon a time. Nobody except for a few ever really knew it all…And only a few more have heard the abridged version of the truth." He admitted. He looked thoughtful for a moment before noting her expression of interest. "A tale for another time I think. How about you give me the basics of who Hawke is to you?"

Merrill nodded, silently accepting his unspoken promise to speak in more detail about himself. "Hawke…was my friend, the first true friend I ever had. I had companions and people I was friendly with or depended upon back in the clan, but Hawke was my first…friend. Does that make sense?"

Harry nodded firmly. "Only too well." He nodded vaguely towards the door, more clearly indicating Hermione's presence beyond it. And not for the first time Merrill wondered just what these two strange humans were to each other.

But she pressed on, "But she was more than that, some would tell you she was a rogue, a scoundrel, and she could be, but never with those who mattered to her, never to those who would suffer needlessly for her behaviour."

She paused considering what else might give a good first impression of her friend. "Loyal, and deadly with blades or a bow. Scary when she wanted to be, heard Isabella who's a master duelist describe her as a whirlwind of razor blades. Though Varric only said that she regularly made him want to go clean out his shorts after a fight." She giggled a bit at that irreverence from her Dwarven friend.

"She was champion to Kirkwall, doing her best to keep her new home together…She was a refugee you see, when she first arrived. And she wanted to ensure she didn't lose her new home."

"Where did she come from originally?" Harry asked gently.

Here Merrill smiled, and laughed, light hearted and tinkling. "Ferelden, same as me, though you wouldn't know it from our accents. Originally from a town known as Lothering, near the edge of the Kocari wilds…They had to leave during the blight, and they nearly didn't make it…"

Harry nodded, then raised a hand again to stop her. "That's another word I've heard a lot since being here, I've always heard "blight" used in the terms of a sickness that affects herds or crops. I take it from the context this is not the case?"

"No," Merrill said shortly, suddenly serious. "The blight, it's something far, far worse than a disease. Though it does include a sickness as a part of its horror."

She sighed pausing to consider how best to explain. "To understand the blights, you have to understand where they came from. Until recently, well—relatively recently, I believed there was no explanation for it, but that if their was one it was the human's fault." She smiled sheepishly, "Dalish remember, we didn't get along well with humans generally."

"But, Hawke and I and some other friends…we found out the hard way that the Chantry's version of events was more similar to the truth than we thought…" She paused considering halting her packing for a moment. "You know of the empire to the north, known as Tevinter?"

He nodded shortly and she continued. "In the past they were not Andrastian like the chantry, though they maintain their own version of that faith themselves. They believed in the Old Gods…massive entities which took the form of Dragons."

Harry winced. "Ouch, dragon worship." She didn't know it but he was imagining someone crazy enough to try and worship a Hungarian Horntail. And getting barbecued for their trouble.

She nodded though continued despite the interruption. "They believed that their gods, or god depending on if your hearing the Chantry approved version or not, lived in a Golden City concealed in the Fade." She waited to be sure he was following. "We don't know how or why, but there was a…group, of Magisters from Tevinter, particularly powerful ones, who got it into their head to enter the Fade and enter this Golden City to personally serve their Gods in exchange for gifts…"

He snorted, "That never works out well, one of the major religions back home have a similar though not identical story."

She could believe it, some people were just too stupid to be believed. Some truths were universal. "They managed to penetrate the Fade and make their way there, but…something went wrong. The city was corrupted by their existence, their…Hubris, Varric called it. The city fell and they were cast back to Thedas. But they were changed."

She frowned thinking of Corypheus. "They were corrupted, twisted by dark magic which had altered their forms. But it was not merely that, if that were the entirety of it they would have eventually been slain and forgotten. They…were more powerful, yes, but they also spread their corruption to others, turning them into what are know as Darkspawn. Now, Darkspawn, are dangerous creatures, consuming any of their blood even by accident in the heat of battle proves fatal to all except the Grey Wardens."

She paused considering whether or not to dive into that mess just yet and decided against it. "However it is worse than even that, the Darkspawn, and these fallen Magisters, they are drawn towards their Old Gods, as they failed to find them in the Fade, they began to dig and search for the sleeping place of these beings."

Merrill sighed. "And they found one, and spread their corruption to him. "Dumat was the first I believe though I am not certain. With the corrupted power of a true deity the corruption became more powerful, and the Darkspawn more coordinated. They struck for the surface, but first they invaded the great Dwarven kingdom and almost utterly destroyed it. In that first invasion, that first blight, when the Darkspawn became organized behind an Old God, they destroyed almost the entirety of the Dwarven people. Now, there exist only a handful of Dwarves settlements, and even when there are no blights they are besieged."

Harry nodded his understanding. He wondered at the parallel to the Dwarves back home or in any fiction he'd ever heard including them. On earth they were not so endangered as here from the sounds of things, but they were nevertheless a slowly dwindling species.

"They reached the surface of course, but were eventually beaten, which is a discussion for another time I think, or we'll be here all night." She chuckled ruefully, noting the fading light outside. It was early winter in this area of Thedas, the sunlight faded quickly.

"But to answer your question I'll say this. Each time the Darkspawn, led by these fallen Magisters find an Old God they corrupt it and attack the surface. The attacks that claimed Hawke's first home, were the beginning of the Fifth Blight."

Harry hummed as he considered that. Something about that story was kicking at the back of his mind and it took him a moment to figure out what it was. "You say you and Hawke found evidence that the Chantry's version might have been more true than you realized?"

She nodded. Then paused considering what to tell him. "Hawke was attacked by a group of Dwarves, supposedly a Dwarven Carta. But it wasn't like them to behave so foolishly. They like gold, Varric says killing people is bad for business. But they attacked Hawke anyways. We learned later that these people were not in their right minds."

She continued packing away some of her belongings into various boxes and bags she had. It was a depressingly small amount. Harry suspected he had owned more while living at the Dursleys. "They had been driven by someone to attack Hawke to draw her to an old ruin connected to the deep roads. It was a prison, designed by the Grey Wardens, who are very fond of fighting darkspawn." She exclaimed earnestly.

"We learned as we entered the prison trying to find the source of the attacks that Hawke's father, an apostate mage had been contacted by the wardens to reinforce the protections on the prison. It was all a trap, designed to bring someone with Hawke blood to break the defences. A magister, one of those corrupted by entering the city had been imprisoned there and had reached out to the Dwarves minds to help him escape."

She looked down embarrassed. "It wasn't our intention, but in our bumbling we released this magister, a being who called himself Corypheus. We fought him, and some Grey Wardens he drew in as well in an attempt to escape. We destroyed him, but learned that he really had tried to enter the city in the Fade. He was clearly blighted, there was no denying what had happened…Still, it was terrifying. I should not like to meet another like him ever if I can avoid it."

Harry nodded easily. "I can understand that." Then paused as he considered the space around them. "Well…Thank you for explaining that Merrill, you should tell 'Mione that some time. She's a lot smarter than I and is always excited to learn something new. However, I see we've basically packed everything except the mirror and your bedroom. Do you want any help with getting that into the tent?"

She nodded happily. "Yes please," Merrill was excited by the notion that she'd get to live with them inside their wondrous tent. It was quite unlike anything she'd seen before. She couldn't wait.

It took a few minutes of finicky work with a levitation charm and some expansion work on her doorway to safely get the repaired Eluvian out her doorway. They met up with Hermione who had been curious what was taking so long, before returning, they with their pets to the tent.

Merrill spent several hour discussing what she'd spoken of to Harry with Hermione. Harry had been right, Hermione was a different sort of student, and asked many more questions. Merrill enjoyed herself a great deal recounting her stories to them in more detail while Harry prepared supper.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Hope you enjoyed that! As stated in the author's notes last chapter. If you want to see any potential replies to reviews, check the site as email notifications for PMs is not working at present on FF.


	21. OLD Harry PotterDragon Age Idea 3

**Author's Note:** As ever I hope that you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

 **The Tent**

 **Kirkwall Alienage**

 **Free Marches Thedas**

Merrill awoke slowly at first, simply snuggling into the sheets of her bed. It didn't permeate her mind just then that she couldn't remember the last time she had slept in such a comfortable bed. In her sleep fogged state she even absently thought to herself that it was a good thing the ambient magical energy of mages killed fleas in their hair and clothing, as she would have hated to infect such a wonderful bed with them.

What eventually brought her fully back to consciousness, and made her cognizant of her different surroundings, was her sudden notion that she smelled bacon.

Bacon was a fine food, something which took time to cut, preserve and then prepare in due time. Not something she could afford often, not off the small pittance of money she made helping the elves around Kirkwall. Nor was it something anyone in the alienage prepared with any regularity.

So it was, that she properly awoke, to the nose twitching aroma of cooking pig meat. She lay there, still, momentarily wary of her unfamiliar environment despite her comfort. Thankfully, Merrill was fairly intelligent and had a good memory, so she didn't arise screaming in alarm and hurling fireballs about as a certain semi-possessed apostate she had once known was prone to doing.

The events of the day before, which had so utterly shifted her world came flooding back to her. She had awoken the day before quite secure in her belief that it was a morning like many before, and many to come. Instead she'd found out strange mages were in the city, and that she should meet them.

Then had come the shock of learning the precariousness of her own position within Kirkwall, when the Seekers had departed with two people who had allowed, through their own diligent efforts, for her comfortable little world to remain sane.

It was strange, she thought to herself. Even Hawke, who had been so good to her, even when she challenged her beliefs, had not come to accept her as quickly as these two strangers. Her plight had been mentioned and they had offered to help. A strange thing in this world.

Stranger still was that she found herself trusting them so readily. She was not some cynical and jaded warrior like Fenris, but she was not so naive as she sometimes appeared. She was well aware what dangers existed out there waiting to prey upon someone like her. They were many, and varied, some in the form of monsters, beasts and miscreants of all kinds. Others, the more dangerous ones, sidling up and smiling, pretending kindness when they meant only harm. And yet she knew, somehow, in her heart that these two, whom she had barely met, could be trusted. That they truly wished to aid her in her time of need.

And so it was that she relaxed again enjoying the smells and sounds for a time before finally opening her eyes, to stare up at the fabric of the tent they inhabited. The tent was a wonder, and she had spent many hours the night before, trying to figure out how such a thing was possible. To no avail.

She had been surprised to learn, through tentative and roundabout questioning that no, Harry and Hermione did not share a bed. Though she had gotten the distinct impression they might not mind to. Which confused her, in her experience those that wished to at their age, did. So what was stopping them?

She had been astonished when Hermione had shrunk the bed in that room and shifted it aside with her magic, with just a few negligent flicks of her "wand". Soon enough another had been secured from their storage room and added to the space so the girls might bunk together.

Merrill, questioning her possibly infringing on Hermione's space, had found out then that Hermione had once shared a _dormitory_ with other witches her age. Witches, it still boggled her mind that their people used the local term for a maleficar for their female mages. But this brought her also to the realization that Hermione, and presumably Harry, had been formally educated in magic, somewhere. Somewhere called Hogwarts. She'd need to ask what such a place was like. Judging by her discussions with them it did not sound like it was their world's version of the Circle of magi. Though she had to wonder what warts of a hog had to do with anything…

She rolled over at some tentative sounds off to her side and blinked seeing Hermione getting dressed. Had she thought about it, in sharing a room with her female host this sort of thing was likely inevitable.

Hermione, was mostly nude, wearing only a pair of very delicate underthings which she could have sworn were made of a fine black lace. Her skin was pale and unlike most of her companions largely unmarred, except for two places. The first she spotted as the young woman bent to pull her strange pants of blue material up to button at her shapely waist, ugly cruel words which had been carve into her forearm. Though she could not read the letters in this light.

And the second she had spotted as the girl pulled a comfortable looking shirt over her head. A dark, but mercifully shallow scar carving across her torso from left shoulder to right hip, like she'd almost been laid open by a sword.

It was then that Hermione looked up and spotted her watching. "Oh, good morning Merrill…" The brunette greeted the young woman brushing some damp hair aside. Had she bathed? When, and better yet, where? Had she gone out into the city and used one of the public bath houses? If she had, she was mildly jealous, elves never got to use such places, and only entered as staff who cleaned up after everyone.

"Have a good sleep?" Hermione asked.

Merrill nodded, smiling. "Mythal yes, this bed is so comfortable." She hoped she'd never need to go back to one like that in her old home…It was odd, despite everything she would miss the place.

She got up and stretched languidly, widening Hermione's eyes. Merrill had headed to bed before her companion the night before, though not by much. And had slid under the covers before Hermione had entered, swiftly falling asleep.

Merrill slept in the nude. When she could. Kirkwall mercifully never getting that cold. After so long among the Dalish, where privacy was at a minimum and where bathing was out in whatever nearby water source was close by. Sleeping, in clothing, in her own home away from prying eyes, was not something she could easily get used to.

She hadn't thought anything of doing so, despite her companion, and now worried that had been a mistake. She waited to see what Hermione was going to say. The woman noticed her patient look and pinked before explaining. "Sorry, just wasn't expecting you to sleep like that, shouldn't make such a big deal of it. One of my dormitory mates in school did after all, and most of the others in vary degrees of being half dressed. I was just caught off guard…" She considered her looking at her more directly if only for a moment. "It'll be fine, I'm sure. I'll just make sure Harry knows not to wander in without warning…"

Merrill pinked at that notion. "Oh creator's yes, that would be embarrassing…"

Merrill was not an elven youngling, but she had never laid with another. Of any gender. And she was not used to the notion of a male especially seeing her in such a state. It didn't help that Harry, was a handsome male, though she was hesitant to admit it, was spoken for. Such a thing would be very, VERY bad.

She turned to hurriedly collect her clothes from the table at the foot of the bed, and began pulling them on. It was then that Hermione first made a comment about her appearance. And it was not about something she had been expecting. "You have scars, more than I have…" She noted curiously, as Merrill pulled on her chainmail over her more comfortable underthings.

Merrill blinked, then furrowed her brow, nobody really spoke of scars, not even Isabella. It wasn't shame, just acknowledgement that everyone had them. An irony then that she had made note of the ones on Hermione. She wondered why they had stuck with her?

Then Hermione smiled. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, life here doesn't strike me as favouring the delicate. And you certainly seemed to have lived an exciting life so far."

Merrill nodded understanding. "Yes, well you fight as much as I've had to and you pick up a few scrapes." She agreed.

Hermione nodded, then tilted her head at her and pointed a finger at her hands, or rather her forearms. "You have many cuts on your hands, and forearms. From your blood magic I assume?"

Merrill nodded shortly, it was the cost of her work. The scars were thin thankfully, but they certainly were visible. She was thankful they were most often covered by her bracers and gloves. She was not a vain sort, but they still made her sad some days.

"If you want we can see if we can do anything to reduce them." her new roommate offered.

Merrill blinked in surprise at her, and Hermione explained. "There are medicines we possess which will reduce or remove scaring, I'm not certain how much good they'll do on those scars from your blood magic. But some of the other stuff should be fixable."

She tilted her head curiously at her, "Is that why you still have those scars? Blood magic?'

Hermione shook her head, seemingly unperturbed by the fact Merrill had seen them. "No, the one on my chest is from a black curse I was hit with when I was younger. It cannot be removed, too much taint from black magic in it despite my efforts to remove it. The other on my forearm, no. I keep that one to remember what petty hatreds do to people."

There was a story there, but she wasn't going to ask just then. Somethings had held her attention. "Curses? Someone cursed you? I'm so sorry, what does it do?"

Hermione sighed ruefully as she pulled on an over shirt of some variety. "Had it been cast properly, it would have exploded my organs inside my chest and killed me instantly. Even being miscast it could have killed me, but the healers managed to counter it and prevent _too_ much permanent damage…"

"You were very lucky then," Merrill said, though she was curious about this notion of countering a curse. Even a miscast one.

"Yes, very." Hermione agreed. Then smiled, "Now come, enough of that, if you want us to see about healing some scars let us know, but let's hurry on, we have breakfast and then we need to say our goodbyes before we leave. The ship leaves an hour before noon."

Merrill pulled on her green tunic and secured her belt around her waist, then picked up her staff from beside the bed. "Excellent, I look forward to it, it smells wonderful!"

The pair entered the main living space of the tent to find Harry toiling over the stove, to Merrill's surprise with no magic to be seen. Somehow despite how casually these two used magic in their daily lives, Harry worked using simple mundane tools, some of them familiar. Some of them not. He looked up as they entered. "Hello my ladies…" He said making a casual half bow before returning to his work, eyes dancing. "I have here some food for you. You want some before we head out? Or should I put it in stasis for later?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, we have plenty of time, and besides I don't know about Merrill, but I'm hungry." She said smiling sashaying over to her boyfriend and kissing him lightly on the cheek. Which only served to confuse Merrill more.

"Oh yes, I'm hungry too!" Merrill assure him, moving hopefully towards the table. Juno, peaked out under the edge of it to look at Harry and whined.

He sighed theatrically, then nodded to Juno before turning his attention to the cupboard where Crookshanks had found a perch. "Yes, Juno you can have some. And I suppose you want some too your imperiousness?"

The cat managed to look more smug than any being had a right to, and Merrill gave it a suspicious look before settling herself at the table. "Good, the food will be served presently." Harry muttered before flicking his wand at the cabinet next to him, and it seemed that while he preferred to keep magic out of actual food preparation, he had no compunction against it for serving as some plates soared out of it and came to rest on the counter nearby.

It was, without a doubt, the best breakfast Merrill had ever enjoyed. And she was amused to note he had indeed made enough food to give the dog and cat their fill as well as the more conventional eating companions.

It was partway through that they were interrupted, just as Hermione was complimenting the cook. "This is as good as ever Harry, thank you, I—" She stopped as the sound of a familiar raised voice reached them.

"Merrill, are you in there?"

She smiled and got to her feet, shouting over her shoulder before darting for the door. "Yes, Aveline, I'm coming!"

Harry and Hermione chuckled as they watched Merrill lead a very startled looking Aveline through the tent to the table. "Come sit, have bacon, it's fantastic!" Merrill demanded.

Aveline looked startled at the food on the table in front of her, before returning to looking at the large space around her. "Er—no thanks I just ate…" She muttered before zeroing her eyes back on Harry and Hermione. "Uhm, I'm sorry I'd just come to say goodbye to Merrill. I hope I didn't interrupt too badly?"

Harry waved his hand idly and Hermione answered. "Not at all, if you need we can leave while you say goodbye?"

"No, no. I was just hoping to walk you all down to the docks…" Aveline noted.

"That's very kind of you Aveline. Thank you." Merrill demurred, happily.

Harry began cleaning up the dishes a bit later floating them over to a strange mechanical looking compartment set into the space below the counter sorting them into slots within it before closing it. Merrill, resolved to ask about that at some point.

It was then that Aveline noted the object nestled in the corner. "I take it then that you are taking everything with you?" she asked nodding to the Eluvian.

Merrill nodded seriously. "Yes, it will be nice to have one handy just in case. Though I do wonder how we will keep it safe, we can't carry the tent on our backs whenever we're not in it can we?"

Harry shrugged. "We could, it'd be a bit of a hassle but we could. Won't need to though. We post wards around the tent whenever we pitch it."

Again Merrill had to stifle the need to immediately barrage him with questions. Wards…creators, wards were an art lost since Arlathan in all but the most primitive senses. She could, herself barricade a door with arcane enchantments, and enough power. But true wards…that Harry mentioned using them to protect their little dwelling as normally as anything excited her beyond belief.

"You put magic on your tent?" Aveline asked, she hadn't felt anything coming in…And wasn't that dangerous?

"Of course, mostly mild stuff, this is an inhabited area. All of it's intent based. Redirecting people who mean harm, that sort of things generally. One or two shielding wards. Nothing offensive, nothing that someone might trigger on accident." He agreed. "Hermione's generally the one who sets them up. I can't seem to resist making them have hilarious side effects on those who try to get in without permission."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Turning them green and furry wasn't funny. It just made them look like the Grinch who stole christmas."

Harry laughed. "That was funny! The Grinch is hilarious."

"Only if you've only ever seen the cartoon version. There was something sinister about the version in the live action." She grumbled, though the two others at the table could tell she wasn't really upset with him.

"Well, for my part I am happy I don't have any furry green people wandering Kirkwall. It'd only be a short while before some…enterprising individual got it into their heads to skin someone for their new magical pelt." Aveline noted seriously.

The others stared at her for a moment. "You know…that's pretty gross right?" Harry ventured.

Aveline shrugged philosophically. It might have appealed to her sense of humour had she been joking. This was Kirkwall after all.

* * *

 **The Gallows**

 **Kirkwall, Free Marches**

 **Thedas**

"No lady, that's called elf root? You sure you know your way around potions?" The apothecary asked worriedly. The lass across from him, aside from her strange clothing, seemed nice enough. It'd be a shame if she blew herself up. But she'd just referred to it as _mint_ after tasting one of the leaves. She'd made sure it was safe first at least. Not everyone who thought they should get into potion making did that, and ended up dead.

"No, I get that, but the place I'm from uses different names for things, I was just trying to figure out if they were the same plant, or at least a similar one." She explained patiently.

He nodded, somewhat relieved. "Ah, well we call them elf root, magical plant it is, got a nice connection with magic. Chewing it is nice for your breath true, but mashed up in a poultice it makes a good curative when applied by a mage." He assured her.

She nodded. "It's also used in a salve to treat dog bites, can be used in an advanced elixir of euphoria as well as a number of healing draughts. But I'm curious. What is this purple variety you have, I admit we don't have this type back home. I'm curious what it's used for."

The apothecary nodded, pleased he'd found someone who apparently knew the craft, albeit under foreign names. "That's royal elf root, it's not terribly common near Kirkwall, though it is in Seheron and in the lands south of the Waking sea. Its properties are virtually identical to that of normal elf root or as you called it, mint? However it is about ten times more potent. So it is usable in those potions you mentioned. Though I admit I've never heard of that euphoria elixir before…" He shook his head. He'd have fun figuring that out on his own. "Actually Royal Elf Root might be too strong for something like that. You see it already induces mild euphoria in those who chew it. Strengthening the effect via brewing might cause more extreme effects such as manic behaviour."

She nodded, duly warned. "How about this plant, it looks a lot like something we call…"

Harry shook his head, smiling fondly as he watched Hermione talk potions and ingredients with the apothecary. They were waiting for the ship's crew to prepare for boarding, so they had some spare time.

She always had been better than he at potions, when he didn't have superior instructions at least. And that had held true after school as well. If they were to brew any replacement potions here they'd need to know the local flora and fauna's properties.

Merrill was sitting next to him as they watched her. "I haven't been to the gallows lately…" She admitted cautiously. "Not since the battle against Knight Commander Meredith…"

He looked sideways at her curiously. "It's nice to see things are mostly returned to normal here." She admitted. "Well except for the main courtyard of course."

Harry nodded, the main courtyard of the fortress was undergoing repairs. But some of the detritus of a battle remained. Such as large sections of large bronze statues…and that creepy red crystal thing in the middle of the place…

Speaking of which. "Who was Knight Commander Meredith?" He asked.

She pointed to said creepy glowing red crystalline form. "That was her, she was the Knight Commander of the local garrison of Templars. She became increasingly paranoid as time went on, we later found out it was because she had made the mistake of fiddling with red lyrium. You can see what it does to you." She said pointedly looking at the object in the centre of the large space.

He grimaced. "Note to self, never touch red lyrium. Whatever that is."

Merrill laughed. "Red lyrium is that material she's now made of. Normal lyrium is blue, and when dissolved in a solution can vastly boost your magical reserves for a spell, though nobody is clear exactly how it does so. It doesn't empower our connection to the Fade…It's actually more trouble than it's worth generally."

"Oh?" He asked, curious about this material. The normal stuff, not the red stuff that apparently turned you crazy then turned you into a tortured red statue.

"Extended exposure to lyrium, particularly the red kind damages your mind. The Dwarves are resistant to that effect which is good because they're the only people who mine deeply enough to find it generally. Over time it…well it destroys who you are, old Templars, who consume it in such a way as to allow them to actually negate magic are almost universally insane or have utterly lost their memories. It provides power, but at a cost."

He nodded understanding. It might be a useful emergency use material in a last stand fight, but not something people should be using casually.

Hermione was wandering over to them looking pleased with herself. "I've got everything we need I think. At least for what I recognized in that lot. What have you two been talking about while I was gone?"

Harry pointed at the creepy crystal commander as he now thought of it. "If anyone offers you something called red lyrium turn them down." He said sternly, and she followed his gaze and winced.

"Duly noted, care to fill me in?" She requested. "We can walk down to the dock while we talk."

Merrill told Hermione what she'd just told Harry, Hermione voicing aloud the same conclusion that he'd reached, that it was a substance of last resort. Merrill agreed.

The ship they were to catch, _The Storm Rider_. Was actually about the size of what the old British Imperial Navy would have recognized as a 4th rate ship of the line. A frigate. Except for the fact it mounted absolutely no cannon. Instead mounting a number of bolt throwers on the railings, and two large ballista near her bow.

She was a garish vessel, which in the future they'd learn didn't necessarily mean it was a civilian ship. Orlesian ships of the line were if anything even more heavily decorated and much more well armed. A large stylize golden lion mask decorated the bow, and the sails. A blue strip running the length of the ship around her belt.

 _The Storm rider_ was clearly a vessel belonging to a well funded shipping and transportation concern. It was well cared for, and it's crew well appointed.

They found the line for boarding the ship was short. Only a few couples, a merchant or two and someone who had to be a jester or travelling minstrel, but which they'd later learn was actually an Adventurer. Something which was actually a legitimate occupation for young Lords in Orlais.

When they finally reached the base of the ramp to the ship, they came face to face, or rather face to mask with one of the ship's armsmen. An Orlesian soldier in the employ of this shipping concern, wearing a navy blue uniform under silver armour. The man's face completely obscured by the silver masked helmet.

"You are the group which reserved the section in the primary hold yes?" He asked in a thick accent, eyeing Merrill inscrutably from behind his mask.

"Yes, that is the deck two above the bilge correct?" Hermione confirmed.

He nodded, "Yes, good thinking on your part to request that deck, the lower two…are not so pleasant." He assured her. He checked his sheet. "You payed ten sovereigns in advance, to reserve the spot, your final fee, comes to thirty sovereigns for all three of you, twenty now, counting the down payment, and ten more when you arrive. Do you have your funds?"

Harry nodded and handed across ten more galleons, which the Orlesian peered at curiously. "They're actually somewhat bigger than sovereigns. You may check the authenticity if you wish, you won't offend me…" He offered.

The guard considered him, then looked back up to the deck where the Captain was watching. He shouted a question to the man in Orlesian, or french as Harry still thought of it. And the Captain shouted back. The guard shrugged and turned to consider him. "The Captain says your gold was good when he had it checked for the down payment, he will trust your gold is just as good now. Though he'll have words with you if it isn't."

Harry nodded, that was fair. "That's acceptable."

The guard bowed shortly at the waist and stepped aside. "Then welcome aboard madams and monsieur." He said graciously. In days to come Harry would learn that that particular guard was very polite as he'd used a proper honorific for Merrill as well. Not all would.

They trudged their way up the ramp and were guided by a crewman in a simple blue striped shirt down to the space they'd reserved, near the bow on the deck just below the outside. The crew quarters were the deck below their's and the other passenger berth were at the other end of the deck they'd selected. Cargo sat either in between them and those berths or in the next two decks below them. This was actually encouraging, most of the housing was high enough up that should the ship be holed below the waterline they'd have time to get off.

They made it to their quiet cordoned off section of the hold and pitched their tent once the crewman had left. Hermione departed with Merrill to return to the upper deck for departure, entrusting Harry, against her better judgement to see about the protections.

Merrill and Hermione returned to the deck just in time to see the ramp retracted and secured by the crew and they asked permission to find a section of rail to stand and watch them put out to sea. Once granted they watched the shore crew release the moorings and enjoyed the morning sun as the ship started out across the harbour. Merrill looked back along the side of the ship towards the majority of Kirkwall. "It's hard to believe I'm finally headed back to the south. I've called this place home for so long…"

Hermione gave her a quick one armed hug around the shoulders. She'd undeniably seen it that morning upon the girl getting out of bed, but every time she embraced Merrill it was brought home just how slight a female elf's figure was.

"Well, maybe someday you'll see it again. We're very glad to have you along." Hermione noted firmly.

"Yes, we certainly are." Harry agreed surprising them as he took up a spot along the railing beside them. "We are very grateful Merrill."

The little elf blushed under their gratitude. "Your welcome. I'm glad you've agreed to have me. Do you know how long we'll be at sea?" She asked.

Harry nodded, smiling, he was coming to like Merrill's whiplash changes of topic. It kept him on his toes. "Yes, three days is the best estimate, thankfully the wind is with us, at least that's what the crewman I asked said. And the distance between here and Jader is relatively small.

"Good, I'm already feeling a bit queasy." Merrill admitted quietly.

Hermione handed her a small vial from her purse, and the elf looked at it curiously. "It's a draught to reduce nausea, it should do you for a few hours, then we'll head to the tent. Being what it is you won't feel the rocking so much. But first, do you know if elves react differently to potions than humans do?"

"No, in fact potions seem to affect all races the same, even Qunari. However the same can't be said of poisons." The elf explained.

Hermione handed the draught over. "Let me know if you feel ill or off at all."

Merrill nodded in relief and downed the draught. Before pulling a face. "Ugh. What is it about potions that they all have to taste awful?"

Harry barked a short laugh. "All potions taste bad, don't know what it is, but they do. As true here as it is back home it seems."

The ship passed beneath the great chains which held the ship nets which would hold out besieging navies and out onto the open sea. "It really is vast isn't it?" Merrill noted. "I remember being struck by that last time."

"I always feel like that too when I see the ocean." Hermione agreed. Then looked to Harry, "You mentioned you set the wards. What have we got this time."

He smiled thinly. "I decided to prove I can be mature when I want to be. Nothing too out there this time. A little more than we applied in the alienage. An actual repulsion field for anyone not authorized, nothing too strong just enough to knock them off their feet. An alert ward to let us know when someone is looking for us."

She nodded acceptance, then squeezed his hand in thanks. "Alright, well unless you two want to stay out here and watch the sea for a while why don't we head back inside. We can get a spot of lunch and generally relax."

Merrill took one last breath of sea air before nodding. "I'd like to go back to the tent. It's more comfortable in there."

"Then that is what we shall do." Harry agreed. "After you ladies," he said affecting a slightly pompous air.

The girls giggled and shook their heads at his antics. Soon enough they were headed below.

* * *

 **A day later**

 **Somewhere deep in the Arbor Wilds**

 **South of Orlais, Thedas**

Prongs could feel it, this one was open, all it would take is a little nudge. Most of the mirrors he had found over the last day and a half had been sealed even against spirits. This one, it felt different. More, and less, open at the same time. Any more physical than he would have a hard time passing through it. And so as he stood in the middle of a sleeping temple, hidden deep in the forest, hovering just above the surface of a mirror smooth pool of water, he prepared to make his leap. The force that drew him onward to his goal was stronger here. It would lead him to his goal eventually he was sure.

And so he paced forward until his nose touched the mirror and found it indeed was not sealed against him. He felt satisfaction, the small echo of James Potter within him was happy and he pressed on. And as the mirror rippled slightly at his passage, one of the elves slumbering, almost as the dead here, twitched in his sleep.

Unfortunately he did not find himself anywhere he recognized as he stepped through however, even if the pull of his destination was stronger than ever before.

He was pretty sure this wasn't earth. Though it certainly wasn't that other place as far as he could tell either. It was a lot more…green, than either place if he was being honest. And…well it was upside down where he was at that moment. How he knew he was upside down he couldn't say, but he was.

He looked around trying to determine his path and stopped as his eyes fell on a small figure sitting on a rock not far away from himself. It was small, almost like a house elf or a child, and white. Round, with fat little formless limbs, and a big misshapen head. An open mouth and two blank staring eyes looked at him curiously. It tilted its head at him, clearly curious, and he did the same. Then the creatures head tilted a little further to the side, before snapping back upright and rattling back and forth on its neck before stilling. It repeated this process twice more before it got to its feet. At which point it resumed the pattern.

He shook his head, no this was not Earth, he decided. But the pull was directing him to his left, he'd head that way and hopefully find a way somewhere more sensible…

Yeah, like that was ever going to happen with a Potter riding around inside him.

* * *

 **Waking Sea**

 **Nearing Jader**

 **Thedas**

Merrill peered at the curious space with a perplexed look on her face as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. It was a box, sort of, set into the cupboard counter beside the sink. Which she was uncertain about enough as it was, it was metal. With these weird racks that held the various detritus after a meal…and, there were these strange…arms which spun like those on a windmill. Except what they were doing in there she had no idea. All she knew was this, after a meal, which was always fantastic! The dirty plates would go in there, and…the door would close, then it'd make noise…Not a lot of noise, but it sorta sounded like a growling badger was trapped in there, being sprayed with water…not a happy state to find yourself in. You never wanted to trap a badger then provide the only way out through yourself by opening the way….But there was no badger. Thank the creators for that!

And when it was over, the dishes came out clean. The…whatever it was, had a clear purpose. It cleaned dishes. But how, that was the question, when probing it with her magic, it appeared absolutely normal. Save for the fact it cleaned dishes apparently on its own. Maybe it had a demon in it? Maybe that was why Harry and Hermione weren't unduly afraid of such things? They'd trapped all theirs in boxes and made them do the dishes?

"Have you figured it out yet?" An amused voice asked from behind her.

She whirled around almost tripping to find Hermione standing there sipping from a cup, with an amused expression on her face.

Merrill huffed. "No, I haven't. Will you tell me, I think my brain is melting, I was thinking you trapped badgers and demons in there and forced them to do your dishes a minute ago…"

Hermione smiled in merriment. "Well no, we don't do that. And I'll tell you right now, it's not magic…" She paused then wobbled her head noncommittally, "Well that's not entirely true, there are runes worked into the fibre cables…er, ropes. Which protect what powers it from magic. Otherwise there's nothing magical about it at all."

Merrill frowned. "This is more of that…tek-no-leggy right?"

Hermione quirked a small smile at her. "Technology, and yes it is. Actually there's a number of things in the tent which are technology instead of magic…I suppose I'd better finally explain it a little right?"

Merrill nodded hopefully. And Hermione nodded leaning against the table and putting down her cup behind her spot. She hummed considering where to begin. "Why is a crossbow better than a long bow, at least for certain tasks?"

Merrill considered. "It fires a more powerful shot over shorter range?" She speculated.

Hermione conceded the point. "Yes, how I'd put it however is this. Someone studied what kind of shots, what kind of bows and how they were used made them deadly over short range and designed something which would do that better all the time. Now, what if someone made a crossbow which didn't require you to plant it, yank the string back by hand and then fire? What if there was one which…"

"You mean like Bianca?" Merrill interrupted enthusiastically.

Hermione blinked in consternation. "Bianca?"

"Varric's Crossbow" Merrill reported happily. "It's artifice made by a friend of his. That's all he'll tell us about it. It has four arms, and fires very quickly compared to most crossbows, it even has a box of bolts built into it." Merrill explained.

Hermione smiled then nodded. "Yes, artifice, that's close to what I'm talking about. Let me put it like this. Technologically speaking that crossbow, Bianca, is more advanced than a normal crossbow. It requires more artifice to create and produces better results. All things people build to reach beyond our natural limits are in one form or another technology. A hammer is very basic technology. Varric's crossbow is more advanced technology. A boat with sails is technologically superior to a boat powered by oars. It's a machine, a device which performs a task… Am I making sense."

Merrill nodded, "I think so. If I understand right, a crane is a piece of technology."

"Yes!" Hermione cheered. "It is. Can you think of any other examples."

Merrill considered and nodded. "The lifts from Hightown, to Lowtown, to Darktown, to the docks…What about, what about potions? Or grenades?"

Hermione blinked surprised by the large jump forward in logic. "Um…potions could be considered technology I suppose, though we tend to leave magic out of that definition. I guess you could say they are magical technology, where as those other things are mundane technology. As for a grenade…Yes, that is technology, and a good example of the terrible things it can be used for. I didn't know that people had grenades here?"

Merrill nodded. "Antivans use them, so do Dwarves, explosive potions or lyrium agitators mostly. The Qunari use some, though nobody knows how it works…"

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Well, that's a good example I suppose yes. Now back to the dish washer, simply put it uses water moved at pressure, like from a pump…er—if you have those?"

Merrill nodded. "Not many places do, but Kirkwall had a few thanks to the Dwarves."

Hermione nodded. "Good, simply put, the dishwasher pumps in water from a tank…usually, and uses gears to spin the nozzle of the pump. The water is forced out hard enough in a spinning motion to push the filth off the plates with the help of soap. That's all."

Merrill nodded, and looked at the machine. "Why use this instead of magic?"

Hermione smiled, it was a good question. "Well, we actually know some people who use magic to do it. A straight cleaning spell actually eats away the dishes a bit over time. Even faster than normal cleaning would. Using magic to enchant scrubbing tools…" Like she'd seen Mrs Weasley do for years. "to clean for you requires you to constantly funnel magic to the enchantments to ensure it works, and even then you need to keep an eye on it. Magic is magic after all." She'd seen Ron get chased out of the house by a rogue scrubbing brush once when Mrs Weasley was distracted.

"The thing about machines, especially simple machines, is this. They are predictable, and they don't need you to watch them to work necessarily. That dishwasher, will do it's job if we're here, if we're in the living room, or even if we're up on deck…"

Merrill seemed to consider that. "Where does it get the water from again?"

Hermione shook her head at the sudden change in topic, glad that Merrill seemed to have accepted what she'd said. "The hoses which are enchanted to pump the water, draw from a tank concealed in a pocket under the tent floor. The tank conjures the water as it empties so we never run out. The used water is vanished by a hose which catches it."

Merrill blinked at her. "I was wondering why you were wasting water on dishes…and on the toilet…and the sink…" She paused and her eyes widened. "Does the bath work like that?"

Hermione nodded slowly, and Merrill threw up her arms. "You mean I could have had a bath…everyday if I'd wanted to and I'd never have run out?"

She nodded again, wondering where this was going. "I was holding off, that bath looks wonderful, but I didn't want to use up your water too fast!" Merrill exclaimed then started towards the bathroom, shedding her belt and then her tunic as she went. Hermione hurried after her picking them up as she followed along. "I am going to take a bath!" Declared Merrill happily as she entered the bathroom and started tugging on the chainmail. Then paused. "Is a hot one possible? Please tell me it's possible!"

Hermione just chuckled nodding, closing the door behind her, before moving deeper into the room and depositing the elf's things on the counter next to the sink. "Yes it's possible Merrill, I'll show you how."

Merrill smiled brightly then started pulling at her clothes again, soon standing in a towel while the large tub filled.

Hermione smiled as the elf bounced almost anticipatory as the basin filled. It was a large tub though it was going to take a while. This model of wizarding tent came with a large pool like bath because those who went on expeditions often liked to relax together in the hot water after a long days work.

Finally it was full of lightly steaming water and Merrill, wiggling like a happy puppy now dipped a toe in, shivered then sunk slowly into the water sighing. Hermione smiled at her, "Enjoying it are you?"

The elf nodded blissfully. "The city has public bath houses, but elves are not allowed to use them…" She noted sadly. Then smiled, chuckling. "I've had more cold showers at the little stall in the alienage than I care to remember. I only recall having a warm bath once, when I was sick with chills…The Keeper helped me have one in the small bath tub the clan carried with us as opposed to the river. It is, despite being how sick I was at the time, a good memory. This one will be even better!"

Hermione nodded smiling in understanding. "Yes, nothing quite like a hot bath after a long day. I can tell you I enjoy my showers…" She indicated a nozzle overhead. "In the morning, something about being in this tent all the time, or on the ship…it makes me sore you know?"

Merrill nodded, then opened her eyes to watch Hermione shifting slightly, "You could jump in too you know?" She offered. "The bath houses always had a many people in the pool at one time!" She urged when she saw Hermione's uncertain look. "And besides, you've seen me without my things before…I don't mind. Just…so long as you're okay with it too."

Hermione pondered, then nodded and moved to the door, double checking the lock. She knew Harry wouldn't peek, but she wanted to be sure the door was sealed right anyways. "Harry I'm having a bath with Merrill, so don't worry I haven't gotten lost." She called, chuckling at the little joke. Harry had once gotten worried when he couldn't find her once on the Horcrux hunt whilst she was in the bathroom, it became something of a running joke between them.

There was a pause. "Er—okay! Enjoy yourselves?" He called back from somewhere uncertainly. Hermione was glad that they'd put up silencing wards around the tent. They'd heard one too many people getting sick over the side on the deck above and had made some modifications to the wards. People would no doubt have reacted oddly to that conversation.

She nodded in satisfaction then turned back to eye Merrill speculatively. "Sorry, just had to mess with his head little."

Merrill nodded easily, then paused before speaking "I've been meaning ask you about wards."

Hermione eased as the topic changed. "Sure, what about them?"

"How widely used are they in your world?

The brunette shifted, "Widely enough, at least in the wizarding world. Most families have a basic set to keep away normal people and to keep out thieves."

Merrill nodded, "The old elves used to be able to make proper wards I'm told…But we lost the knowledge how to do the same…I wish I could do magic like you can, but…maybe I'll pick up a few things that my magic can do too in time?"

Hermione made positive sounds while she thought. She had wondered about that, magic here and back home were very similar. She'd been surprised to learn that most mages never used a spell that required a verbal incantation…They specialized in unspoken magic. Willing their mana to do what they wanted instinctively. Just how different were she and Merrill? Tests would need to be done…

The inner book worm in her squealed in anticipation. Now then, about that bath.

* * *

It was that same evening, as they sat down to a supper which was, as ever, prepared by Harry, that Merrill decided to push a little. She had spent the last four days in these two's company and despite her surety that she could trust them, she knew very little about them as people. She knew they were from another world, that they were magicals as they liked to call themselves, that Hermione certainly went to school with many other young mages. And that they had a machine which cleaned dishes for them…

She poked at her meal idly, once she had eaten her fill, pondering her first question. It took a while, Merrill was well aware she had trouble interacting with others at times, and she didn't want to offend them, but had managed to find a good point at which to start.

"Would you two mind telling me a little about…well yourselves?" She asked uncertainly, causing her dinner companions to pause in their eating. They shared a look, which she couldn't decipher.

Finally Harry nodded, "I suppose so, after all you've told us quite a lot about yourself, and we've held off long enough despite how we're traveling together." He admitted. "What would you like to know?"

"Everything!" Merrill, blurted before blushing. She indeed found her companions fascinating, but that had been a little enthusiastic. "I mean…Could you tell me where you are from? How you two met? I know you both lived outside that city you mentioned…London was it?" She wouldn't soon forget first hearing about a city that large.

Harry nodded, then glanced at Hermione. "Well, for my part I was born in a little town a long ways from London. It was called Godric's Hollow. But I grew up in a little neighbourhood in a city greater London swallowed up. It was called Little Whinging, in Surrey."

Hermione took over here. "I grew up further into London, in a neighbourhood called Belsize Park. I was born in one of the hospitals in London."

"Hospital?" Merrill asked, unfamiliar with the word.

"A large building dedicated specifically to healing," Hermione explained patiently. "It can tend to several hundred if not thousands of sick, wounded or merely pregnant people. Doctors, which are mundane healers and nurses who assist them staff the places."

Merrill nodded, it sounded like Ander's clinic writ large. An interesting notion. Especially as they did their healing without magic it sounded like. "They sound like sad places…well, aside from the births."

Hermione shrugged. "They can be. But mundane medicine back home is a lot more advanced than here. They save more people than they lose, and pretty much anyone who is having a child goes there. They're very good at what they do generally, despite being perpetually underfunded or staffed."

Merrill nodded. "And how did you two meet?"

Hermione considered that, "To explain that we'll need to tell you a bit about some other things, if you don't mind a minor tangent…" Merrill shook her head, indicating she was okay with that.

Hermione smiled and then began, pushing her finished meal away from herself. "For my part I'm what the wizarding world back home calls a 'Muggleborn' which is to say I was born to non-magical parents. Now, you have to understand back home the magical world and the mundane one are kept separate. To the extent most mundane people you meet don't even know that magic really exists. So I was quite surprised when a letter showed up from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, followed soon after by a visit from a professor."

She paused waiting to see if there were any pressing questions, so far there were not. "The professor set about proving to my somewhat skeptical parents that magic was indeed real, and then took me to the magical market place concealed in London, known as Diagon Alley. There I got my spell books, and my first wand. And got my first taste of the wizarding world."

"Harry's story is similar," Hermione explained, sparing Harry from recounting his youth prior to that point. "His visit was somewhat more exciting than mine so I'll let him tell you about it."

He shrugged. "Perhaps another time in more detail, that conversation includes stuff that would take hours to explain and would basically require my entire life story. In answer to your other question however me and Hermione met each other on the train to Hogwarts."

"A train is a machine which carries large numbers of people across a large distance." Hermione explained seeing Merrill's confusion. "It was a fairly poor first impression I made. I was particularly bossy as a child,"

Harry shrugged. "It's not like I did any better, I hung out with Ron Weasley for Merlin's sake. And had very little idea of how to make friends at that point."

She nodded conceding the point. "We weren't friends right away. That came later."

Merrill was silent for a moment as she pondered what they had said. "So Hogwarts, is not like a Circle Tower then?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not at all. It's a school a place where children are taught magic yes, but no, there were no guards, and besides dangerous and black spells their were no restrictions on the magic taught."

Merrill sighed, "It actually sounds rather nice." Hermione nodded in agreement. Finally the elf came back to her questions. "You and harry became friend's later, how?"

Harry chuckled darkly, and Hermione explained. "He saved my life. Ron Weasley, who we mentioned earlier, was not a very nice young man, though we didn't lose his company for a while. He said something which made me cry, and I fled to hide in a bathroom."

Her male companion nodded, "Which would have been fine, in theory, if not for the fact some utter bastard…sorry Hermione, let a Troll into the school. A troll, which I gather you've never heard of judging by your expression, is a ten foot tall mountain of muscle, horrible smells, and club wielding bad attitude." He drawled a bit amused. "We were warned so I dragged Ron to help me make sure Hermione got to safety. Unfortunately for her, the Troll found her. She says I saved her life but I almost got her killed too. We sealed the Troll into a room not realizing it was the girl's bathroom which she was hiding in, if she hadn't screamed we wouldn't have known."

She swatted his shoulder, "You still saved my life, the troll nearly had me, you jumped on it's back and shoved your wand up its nose while Ron called it names. Admittedly he eventually thought to try some magic to stop it, but considering you were being swung around by the thing at that point, dropping it's club on it's head could have gone really badly…"

Harry shrugged. "He had to try something. The troll was knocked out, and I found out later had it's brain fried by my wand. Hermione was safe, and we've been friends ever since."

Merrill marvelled at them. Such a beast would not be an easy foe. "Mythal, that sounds very frightening. Was school normally like that for you?"

Harry barked a laugh. "Yes, more than anyone wished. But it wasn't an everyday occurrence by any stretch."

The elf shook her head. Then sighed, "What was the school like normally?"

Hermione took over again. "The school is divided into houses, based on four personality types. Gryffindor, where I and Harry were sent was the home for the brave and daring. Hufflepuff was for the hard working and the particularly loyal. Ravenclaw for the well read. And Slytherin for the cunning and ambitious. Of course nobody was just one of those things and could honestly have been sorted several places, but each of us had one house we were part of. From there it was divided into year groups. With seven years in total. We were in first year when that incident with the Troll happened."

"Strange, it almost sounds like noble houses in one of the major cities." Merrill mused.

Hermione nodded. "It certainly bears similarities, and the wizarding world in Britain was certainly heavily biased towards old notions of nobility and class. There was competition between the houses. We had our own colours, banners, Quidditch team and separate dormitories. Gryffindor favoured red and gold and had the symbol of a lion, Hufflepuff, black and yellow and a badger. Ravenclaw, blue and silver an eagle. Slytherin Green and Silver, favouring a snake."

Merrill frowned. "The heraldry doesn't make sense…Why a lion and not a Gryphon for your house? Why an eagle for a place called Ravenclaw?"

Harry snorted in amusement. "Much in the wizarding world doesn't make sense Merrill, it's better to ignore the nonsense and try to make things more sensible in the future. Trying to change something traditional would only get you trampled under foot there."

She nodded understanding. Their world had its problems too it seemed. She had no idea how true that was just then. However another question was bothering her. "You mentioned that the mundane and magical worlds are separate. How? Surely that would be incredibly difficult?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, the ministry of magic has entire departments solely dedicated to concealing our existence from mundane people, even going so far as to erase their memories after accidents involving magic."

"They erase their memories? That's horrible!" Merrill yelped.

Again the other girl nodded. "I tend to agree, but considering how the last time the mundane world became widely aware of the magical one they tried to burn us all at the stake, or kill us in other horrifying fashions…No, the world isn't ready for us to be among them just yet, so we're working to change things so one day we might live together again. In the meantime they tell stories about us in the past thinking us nothing but fanciful stories for children."

"That must make it hard for people like you Hermione…" Merrill ventured.

Hermione nodded. "To one degree or another. Some magical people look down on those born to mundane parents, and my parents didn't know what my life was truly like for years. Still I like to think I get to benefit from both worlds, and not just one."

Merrill nodded, then smiled, thinking of some of the fanciful stories Varric told on a regular basis. She wondered if they had any story tellers as good as him. "Is story telling common on Earth?" She asked wrapping her mind around the notion that Harry and Hermione's people called their entire world _Dirt._

Hermione nodded. "Yes, very. Hearing stories in one fashion or another is perhaps one of the most common pastimes people indulge in. Stories told by others, books, newspapers, plays, movies, comics, video games… The list goes on, but people love their stories."

Merrill giggled. "I'm sorry, I just didn't understand most of that. I got that your people like stories though."

Harry smiled and explained for his girlfriend. "Well you know about story telling and books of course, I know that much. Newspapers are small booklets full of the latest news from elsewhere. Don't know if you have plays…"

Merrill nodded hurriedly. "The minstrels occasionally do them at the Hanged Man. And Master Ilen sometimes helped the children of the clan act out stories."

Harry nodded. "Movies are…complicated, think of them as a way to watch moving pictures which tell a story, sometimes it's recording of people, other times it's drawn images or a combination of both. We'll need to show you one some time. Comics are entirely made up of pictures in order to tell a story. And video games…well they're like movies except you direct the story as you want. I really can't explain it better than that without a lot more explanation which you probably won't get right away…"

Hermione nodded, then pressed on. "Actually, there are many famous stories told all over the world. We really should show you a movie someday…Maybe once we've gotten you more used to the weirdness that goes on around us."

Merrill nodded, she had no idea what they were talking about, but it sounded interesting.

Harry leaned back against Hermione and her next question came to her. "Will you please tell me what is going on with you two?" She pleaded, "I'm so confused…Hermione says you're not her consort, or her betrothed…"

Harry smiled. "We're dating, which I suppose is similar to saying that we're courting. Though a lot less formal." He admitted.

Hermione snorted. "We've been dating for years Harry, we just didn't realize it. We only recently made it official. We're still getting used to the notion we could be more…"

Merrill's mouth opened in an oh shape. "So that is why you are not…er—sharing a bed is it? Things must be different where you come from…"

Harry nodded, then shrugged "Yes and no. We're still considered reasonably young, many people live to somewhere between eighty and a hundred these days. Magical people tend to live to around one-fifty, some strong ones to two or three hundred. We're early days yet. As to sharing a bed. Well few people in the nation we come from wait until marriage to sleep with someone they love, though me and Hermione are going slow in that regard. Just caution on our parts. Many people don't marry until around our age."

Merrill nodded, comparing that to her knowledge of Thedas. "What about marriage, how does it work in your world?"

Hermione laughed, playing with Harry's hair. "Depends on the area, and whether you're magical or not. Great Britain tends towards marriage in your twenties or thirties to whomever you love. Some places limit it to just male and female pairs, others don't. Some places allow multiple marriages, some arrange marriages ahead of time. A lot of people don't bother with the ceremonies and just live together with the person they're close with."

She paused then dipped her chin in concession. "It's more complex in the wizarding world. Heirs and arranged marriages. Harry is the heir of a few noble houses though he has no one to arrange matters for him, so he can do whatever he wants. Some marry for love, some for money, others for power."

Merrill sighed wistfully. "As Keeper's first, and future Keeper for our clan I would not have been allowed a formal marriage, most Keeper's take mates they believe will produce a magically strong child, and then move on. So nobody paid me much mind in the clan. Then in Kirkwall most of the Elves were afraid or overly respectful of me…Isabella said she'd help me find someone now I wasn't a Keeper…But she had to leave."

Hermione smiled at her. "I'm certain there is someone out there for you Merrill, we'll help you find someone if we can." She promised.

She smiled wanly back. It was a nice dream, seeing her and Harry there, so comfortable and happy together…it made her wish she had something like that.

Maybe some day.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Hope you all enjoyed that! As noted in previous chapter's notes, PM notifications are not currently working on FF. As a result should you wish to see any replies to reviews I might send you'll need to check the site periodically.


	22. OLD Harry PotterDragon Age Idea 4

**Author's Note:** Hope you enjoy reading this!

* * *

 **A couple days later**

 **Jader, Orlesian Border Region**

 **Thedas**

Jader, from what Harry could see of it from the railing of the ship's upper deck would have trouble being more different from Kirkwall. Kirkwall growled at the world. Harsh structures either shining marble or dirty stucco built atop sheer cliffs, great statues and chains. The lands about it brown with only the occasional patch of green to break it up.

Jader, shone brightly. White walls and red tile rooftops visible even from this distance, flecks of gold and bright banners and flags flying high and snapping in the warm sea breeze. Nestled into a bay surrounded by lush green hills. He could even hear bells echoing across the water towards them.

Harry turned to consider his two companions, looking to see their reactions. Hermione just looked happy, tucked in against his side holding to his arm. Merrill, looked awed. Her eyes wide and her mouth smiling, occasionally glancing excitedly at him and Hermione.

"We'll be arriving soon," Harry speculated. "I can't see it taking us that long to dock. If nothing else, it'll be interesting seeing a new city. How much do you think Orlais will remind us of France?" He asked Hermione.

She smiled, shaking her head. "Some I suspect, though that might be true of anywhere. After all just because they speak the language doesn't mean they'll be the same culturally, after all Kirkwallers speak English."

He conceded the point. Still the Orlesians seemed to have somethings in common with old French society. The masks, flamboyant dress and decoration…just to name a few. He turned to regard Merrill. "What do you know of Orlais?"

She shrugged, practically bouncing in anticipation. "Not much, they're ruled by an Empress, Celene. The nation is said to have a powerful aristocracy supported by the Chevaliers, who are in effect knights. The symbol of Orlais is the golden lion. It is said that most Orlesian cities are very fine by comparison to the Free Marches or Ferelden. Seeing that, I can believe it." She said in awe, nodding to Jader which was drawing closer.

"Is it all so lovely as this?" Hermione asked.

Merrill shook her head. "No, at least I assume not. Parts of Orlais reside in the Dales and the heartlands where it is this nice, but areas to the south and closer to the Frostbacks are colder. Areas to the west are dry and arid, and to the north parts are very mountainous, forested or swampland."

"Wonder if the swamp Orlesians sound Cajun…" Harry murmured to Hermione who chuckled.

The ship was turning to enter the bay properly now, and they could see a lighthouse high on the shoreline, as well as numerous ships in the harbour. Harry even spotted his first Orlesian Naval vessel. A battleship, which would have been massive by his people's standards for old cannon bearing warships.

He could actually smell flowers from the city, and wondered if it had a better sewage management system than Kirkwall. Probably, it would have been hard not to…

It took another ten minutes before they were in and snugged up to the docks, crewmen heading dockside to get them tied off.

Harry delivered the final ten gold to the Captain and they were allowed to disembark. Merrill staggering a bit as she hit dry land. He reached out and caught her before she could really go over. "Careful Merrill, you haven't got your land legs yet."

"I know…" She lamented. "but how is you aren't having the same difficulties?"

"I know it's disgusting isn't it?" Hermione complained a little wobbly herself. "Harry and excellent sense of balance and coordination."

Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "It certainly comes in handy while flying it is true. It's not a big deal, just be careful for a bit you two. At least this place is properly paved for the most part."

It was true, where most of the lower city of Kirkwall was dirt paths with the occasional lost cobblestone, Jader in its entirety seemed to have been carefully paved with marble slabs. If it ever got icy in the winter months it'd be hell he reflected.

"So where to first?" He asked after a moment.

"We should probably find an inn for lunch," Merrill speculated. "We'd get a chance to see all the fancy clothes and people! Oh, and I suppose we could use the opportunity to plan our course from here…"

Harry and Hermione shared a fond smile at that before falling into step behind the elf, who soon had them headed for the main gates of the harbour into the city. Here they were stopped, by a small group of guards.

Well…maybe not so small, there were at least six archers Harry counted at various places atop the guardhouse over the gate. And seven more guards down on the ground. Four were pikemen, wearing blue uniforms with silver armour fixed to it similar to the one the ship's armsman had worn. Two more carried swords and shields and were checking the people who were looking to pass through, finally a captain, or at least that's who Harry assumed he was, wore shining golden armour over a more finely appointed blue uniform, the plate armour stylized into the form of a lion with a red plume erupting from its crown. He carried a shield, once again bearing the lion of Orlais, and carried a sword at his hip. It was he who stopped them to check question them.

"Please wait." He greeted in accented common, the local name for English. "I must ask you a few questions before you are allowed entrance to Jader." He informed them.

They nodded agreeably falling in beside Merrill. "Are you two and the elf mage together?" He asked bluntly. Though his tone seemed to lack the accusatory tone it could have borne.

"Yes," Harry agreed, with Hermione murmuring an agreement a moment later.

"Very well, One Dalish mage judging by the markings. Two humans…Are you mages as well?" He asked cautiously.

Harry considered that, then nodded. If he were to be caught casting magic at any point it would be better that he not have lied to the gate guard. He just hoped the man didn't ask what Circle they were from. "Where are you sailing from?" He asked instead.

"We're all coming from Kirkwall." Hermione supplied.

Here the Captain paused then sighed. "Heard about what happened there, bad business that. I don't know if you're a survivor from that Circle, and frankly I don't want to know. So I'll just give you the same warning we give all Mages who enter Jader, mind yourselves. No casting unless it is to heal someone or to protect yourself or this city. Don't go picking fights with the Templars. The local circle is still under Chantry control. We don't want an incident like in Rivain or Maker help us, Kirkwall. You understand?" He asked seriously.

They nodded. "Good, then I'll ask you your business here."

"We're just stopping here before heading elsewhere. Likely won't be in the city long. Might buy a few supplies." Harry offered.

The Guard nodded, seeming satisfied. "Very well, welcome to Jader, as I said mind yourselves, otherwise be careful. Jader is a safe city, but we do occasionally have riffraff running about."

With that he moved away to question someone else. Merrill shook her head, seeming dazed. "It's strange, he didn't bother me like some of the guards in Kirkwall. Aveline was always good to stop them if they got nasty, but…well it's been a long time since I met kind humans…well besides you and Hawke and her friends…" She admitted, before shrugging it off.

They passed through the gate, and into the city proper. Harry had never visited France himself, but he had to admit the city was lovely. If he had visited that country, he would have recognized some of the architecture from the older areas in mediterranean cities.

Jader, was much busier than Kirkwall, though it did not take up the same area. It's streets fairly bustled with soldiers and watchmen, flamboyant nobles, and flouncing women. Children played openly in the streets and merchants proudly sold their wares from every corner. It did not take long before they found an Inn in the main square.

The host of the small restaurant they maintained turned up his nose at Merrill, in as much as he could with that mask, but let them in after the proprietor barked something chastising in Orlesian. Hermione whispered to him later that the owner had said he didn't care if she was an elf, a dwarf or a bloody Qunari so long as she paid, and to let them in.

Once settled at a table, and after having eaten a small meal which they duly paid for, after some minor consternation over the odd currency, they settled in to make plans.

Harry and Hermione had seen to inscribing protective runes on their expensive map which they had purchased in Kirkwall while they were on the boat. They had not done much with the map as yet, but it was in fine shape now as they spread it out on the table.

"Okay Merrill, where are we?" Harry asked. They had yet to learn the local written language, so Merrill had to read the map for them. Another thing to see to fixing when they camped for the night.

She pointed to one point on the north shore of a large sea which dominated the centre of the map. "This is Kirkwall. We traveled a few days south across the Waking Sea, to here. Jader." She said stabbing her finger at a mark on the map.

"Okay, so where do you want to start? You're our elven expert. Where do you think we might find an Eluvian?" He asked.

Merrill paused considering. She pointed to a number of locations on the map silently before laying her finger on one point in particular a bit to the east of Jader and a bit south along the far side of some mountains. "My clan kept a record of all the elven ruins, new and old which we encountered over the years. I never saw them myself, but right around here is a large complex of old ruins which were, at least at the time, relatively undisturbed." She explained. "It varies from country to country, and even within each nation's people, but most Fereldens are a bit superstitious and believe elven ruins to be bad luck. Which is silly, it is more likely that those who were harmed while entering the ruins were killed by any lingering magical traps or defences. Some of them were said to be horrible!"

"So you think this place might be best? How far is it from here?" He asked, ignoring the problem of horrific traps for the moment.

She shrugged. "If we have horses, perhaps four to five days if the passes are relatively clear. If not, longer."

He nodded, then looked to Hermione. "Thoughts?"

"Ferelden is more familiar to Merrill, so I think it will be the better place to start as she says. Also if the locals avoid the ruins there's more chance we'll find an undamaged Eluvian. And if Merrill thinks this one is the best bet for us then I'll not argue." She said firmly.

He leaned back in his chair. "Fair enough. I really wish we had some extra brooms to cut down on travel time, but…well some horses will have to do. Shame none of us have been there before. Else we could apparate…well, except for Merrill…shame that."

"Apparate?" Merrill asked curiously.

"Think of it as teleportation, er—instantaneous transport between one point and another. Unfortunately to do it safely you should know where you're going or you risk ending up inside something solid…Back home we have areas set aside as safe landing spaces for those who travel magically."

Merrill sighed. "I wish I could do your magic. It sounds so exciting. I have no idea where to even begin with mine to do that…"

Hermione chewed her lip, which she was quite aware drove Harry crazy in all the right ways. "Well we could try teaching it to you the way we were taught, see if that works. But I've actually been wondering something. I would like to run a couple tests on you tonight when we set camp. I want to get a feel for your magic. Maybe then we can figure something out…" She trailed off thoughtfully.

Harry nodded, he could guess what kinds of tests she'd want to run. He'd help her out. If they worked out the way he suspected they might, Merrill would be ecstatic. He liked the little elf quite a bit, and enjoyed it when she got excited.

He rolled up the map. "How about we see to getting some horses then? I assume any stables would be near the gates?"

She nodded. Kirkwall's stables had certainly been located near the gates. They got up and Harry went to the bar to pay the bill. He was getting somewhat tired of people giving him odd looks over the money. Maybe he'd see about charming them so people saw sovereigns when he handed them galleons?

With that done, he rejoined the girls and stepped out into the sun.

* * *

 **Market Inn**

 **Jader, Orlais**

 **Thedas**

Lirris, an elf maiden working as a waitress at a certain inn in Jader's main square watched the strange trio exit the building from heavily hooded eyes. Like Taarbas, in Kirkwall, Lirris was more than she appeared. However she was a great deal more skilled at her job than that Qunari was. Unlike him she had managed to go entirely unnoticed by Harry as she listened in on his conversation with his companions.

She was here to listen in on the dealings of Aristocrats and nobles, Chevaliers and Templars. Not every outsider who stepped through the door. So while they were strangely dressed she hadn't thought much of them at all until she'd overheard a word she'd only ever heard her superiors use. Eluvian. The casual way they'd used the word sent shivers up her spine.

Nobody, absolutely nobody was supposed to know about them as anything more than a myth. She should know. She'd used one to reach Jader in the first place.

Lirris was a spy, the real kind, paid by Briala in Halamshiral. At one time Briala had been the Empress' handmaiden, mistress and spymaster. Now, she had her own agenda. Lirris shared that agenda as it would hopefully see the plight of elves across Thedas improved. So she had been trained and deployed to watch the comings and goings of merchants and travellers in Jader.

She'd been moderately successful in her task, she'd warned her handlers of numerous plots and trade deals which were underway. Even outed a few who sought to abuse her kind to her masters. The bastards in question had shown up days later dead.

She'd need to make a report, someone out there was looking for functioning Eluvians. She'd make her excuses later, and try to pick up those travellers' trails as well. Maybe she'd even manage to tail them and learn some more?

* * *

 **The Fade**

 **Realm Unknown**

Well this was frustrating, Prongs reflected. This place, whatever it was, was all sorts of wrong. Distances made no sense for one thing, one moment his senses told him he was nearly on top of his destination, the next it told him that he was leagues away…

Still, he seemed to be making progress either way. He was definitely headed in the right direction that much was certain. He just wished things would stop moving around so much.

He paused considering how to traverse a chasm between two large floating islands, on his way to the gateway out of this place. Pointedly ignoring the rather persistent rage demon which kept trying to grab hold of him to gnaw on his essence or something. Thankfully, the minor malign entity was having no luck in that regard. In fact every time it tried to touch him it was nearly frozen solid. Its rage cooled by the positive emotions of the Patronus.

In fact Prongs was no longer sure just what the Rage Demon's intent was, the last couple times it had touched him it had been more tentative, as if questing to feel that sensation again. He huffed the equivalent of a sigh as once again the persistent entity made contact poking him tentatively in the flank before stiffening, as its fires cooled and its form solidified.

Some days it really didn't pay to be summoned.

* * *

 **Near the East Gate**

 **Jader, Orlais**

 **Thedas**

There was a commotion up ahead of them, and not the good and happy kind. Instead it was the kind that prompted people to gather about in a large rough circle, whilst someone in the centre out of sight cried out.

Harry spared Hermione just long enough a glance to receive a nod of acceptance before he dashed on ahead toward the source of the noise. Merrill cocked her head as he ran off before looking to Hermione expectantly. "What is he doing?"

Hermione kept on walking at a brisk pace. "It's his saving people thing. We're about to be dragged into another adventure…." She muttered as her eyes narrowed on the crowd. "My Apologies."

It took longer than Harry would have liked to get through considering the density of the angry crowd gathered there. Muttering discontentedly, it was only as he managed to elbow his way, somewhat urgently through the press that he found the source of the cries. And was promptly filled with rage.

These people, unhappy though they might be were standing there, idle whilst a woman, no an elf, lay bleeding on the ground at the feet of a man. Harry barely had time to process this before the man delivered another kick to the quivering elf's side, shouting something Harry did not understand. It barely registered the language spoken was not Orlesian before he was stalking forward. "Hey! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" He shouted angrily.

The man barely paid him a glance before spitting at the girl and kicking at her again. "I said stop! Last warning!" Harry bellowed, pulling his wand from his wrist holster.

The man didn't even bother looking up this time, drawing his boot back to deliver another blow. Something in Harry snapped and he loosed a banishing hex. Someone in the crowd barely had time to cry out in surprise before the bolt of energy struck the man in the side and hurled him bodily through the air. The crowd was forced to scatter to avoid his flailing form.

Harry managed to place himself between the elf and the man getting a better look at the knave as he climbed to his feet. The man was dressed in some of the strangest robes he'd ever seen, part armour, part dress uniform, white with red highlights. He was also unstrapping a stave from his back as he straightened, eyes glaring hatefully at him. Shite, mage. Harry noted preparing a shield just in case.

The man spat on the ground between them before speaking. "Cretin!" He shrieked in oddly accented common. "How dare you interfere with the discipline of my slave! I'll have you thrown in jail for this."

Harry's countenance darkened, so this was a Tevinter was it? They were the only ones who openly kept slaves after all. "I dare, because I see a filthy miscreant like you beating person who can't defend themselves, coward!" He barked back sharply.

The man stamped his foot childishly, "How dare you! Filthy peasant, you besmirch my name, you interfere with my affairs. And you dare to strike me! On my honour we shall duel ser!"

Harry smirked at the man, unimpressed. "Dream on, you're not worth the effort—"

For the first time since they had begun arguing another voice rose to speak. Drawing their attention to where a man was pressing into the square through the crowd, familiar armoured knights at his shoulders. "I'm afraid, young man, that you have little choice in the matter. Now that he has invoked." The new arrival explained calmly, his voice lightly accented Orlesian.

Something clenched in Harry's guts and he fought the urge to tell whoever this was to shove off. Instead opting to ask for clarification. "Explain. Please." He bit off the second word grudgingly.

The man sighed, though Harry had returned his eyes to watch the irately pacing Tevinter. He could hear someone murmuring to the slave girl behind him. If he were to bet he would guess it was Hermione and Merrill. "Unless I am much mistaken young man, you are not a member of any recognized nobility or aristocratic house, yes?" The man queried patiently despite Harry's tone.

Harry had to agree with that, strictly speaking Potter, Black and Peverell were all noble houses, but not here. Here those names meant nothing. "Correct," He agreed shortly.

The man shook his head, "Then I'm afraid I must inform you that, you a commoner, attacked him, a recognized member of the Tevinter Aristocracy and diplomat from that Empire. Thus you are beholden to our laws and must face justice…either at the hands of our justice system, or at his own. As he has invoked first, he has precedence in this matter."

"And if I refuse?" Harry ground out.

"Then, as well intentioned as you might be, we'd be forced to see you cast into prison forthwith. Thus is the punishment for striking someone of such standing." The man explained patiently. "Your belongings would be forfeited to the aggrieved."

Harry sighed. He knew perfectly well he could apparate out right now, and nobody could stop him. However that would cause a number of difficulties. He'd be, officially speaking, persona non-grata in Jader, which would cause him more than a few difficulties in his mission he was sure. The other problem was that if he backed down or ran off he'd be leaving the girl to her fate, whatever that might be. He was certain it would not be good.

The Orlesian proceeded, "However, if you accept, due to his blatantly abhorrent behaviour and status as a foreigner under our laws, you might, should you prevail, find yourself cleared of wrongdoing…As the saying goes in this case. Might makes right."

Harry continued to glare at the sneering man across from him, taking this as acceptance the Orlesian once again pressed on. "Due to his behaviour, and the way he invoked an honour duel as recompense, should he lose…he would lose much." The man prodded, his tone conveying a message, one Harry actually caught, though he asked just to be clear.

"Would his slave be amongst such things?" He bit out.

"Yes…" was the simple reply.

Harry spared a glance to his side seeing it was indeed Hermione and Merrill who were trying to comfort the fallen girl. He met his girlfriend's eyes and sent her his query. Should I go through with this? His tone conveying his desire to wipe the floor with the Tevinter.

She nodded grimly. If there was one thing Hermione hated, it was slavery. Add the abuse they'd just witnessed on top of it and she was right there behind him.

He nodded, "Very well, I accept his challenge."

The Tevinter snarled at him, "Finally! This shall be no challenge. No rules of conduct. To incapacitation or death!"

The Orlesian nodded soberly, turning his eyes back to Harry. "So be it…"

* * *

Merrill shuddered at those last words, that was it. Harry was going to fight the Magister until either one or the other were unable to continue or dead. She had no delusions that the Magister would hold back. He wanted Harry dead for his supposed insult.

The Orlesian spoke as the crowd began murmuring, though this time it was not to the combatants. "Knight Sergeant Leclerc?" He asked in an aside to one of the guards flanking him. "Would you agree to oversee the duel?"

The sergeant stiffened. "With respect magistrate, perhaps we should determine first if the low born is an apostate…"

The Magistrate cut him off with a sharp gesture. "Irrelevant," he barked, his accent thickening angrily. "This matter is settled as a legal affair, attempts to interfere will be challenged by the courts. Your duty is simple Templar, you will oversee this battle, and prevent any spellfire from harming those who wish to watch. Otherwise you will do nothing, is this understood?"

The Sergeant nodded grudgingly. The Magistrate stepped back as the Templars streamed forward to form a protective circle around the combatants. Merrill, Hermione and the wounded girl being carefully shuffled off to the side.

She'd only heard of what came next. Apparently when disputes within the circles degenerated to spellfire duels the Templars would step in creating what they referred to as a null circle. In essence a reversed ward of sorts created by a ritual using lyrium to contain magic within it. It took a number of Templars working in concert, but for a time it could contain almost anything, within a small area.

The Templars took up their positions upon finishing handing out the needed lyrium and created the circle, the Knights glowing faintly despite the bright sunlight around them. She could feel the choking effects of the Templars abilities and shuddered.

The Magistrate prowled the edge of the circle. "The battle will begin on three. Attempts to deliberately breach the Templar circle will immediately disqualify you. Otherwise….Prepare yourselves." He intoned gravely then began to count. "One—Two—Three!"

The Tevinter lashed out almost before the last word had been said. And a burst of fire roared across the circle at her friend, who batted it aside casually. The Tevinter twirled his staff and accelerated his barrage. First one, then another fire bolt streaked out and was absorbed by a rippling shield which Harry erected between himself and his opponent. Then the battle began in earnest. The Tevinter had opened strong hoping to catch his opponent unprepared. Now that he knew his opponent was not undefended he would need to overpower his defences. The Tevinter lashed out rapidly, three strikes, followed by a pommel strike to the ground which caused a flare to rush along the paving stones at speed and erupt upwards near Harry's feet, only to be again stymied by Harry's shield. Though her friend had taken a carefully step backward at that last one.

"Come on Harry!" Hermione shouted. "Don't play around, just take him down!"

The Tevinter then shocked the crowd by launching a barrage spell, dozens of fire bolts erupting from his staff and hands and rocketing towards Harry. Her friend, nodded before stepping forward, muttering something she couldn't hear. A bright orb of light coalesced around him and the bolts of magic hammered against it with dull rolling thumping sound.

"Come dog, are you afraid to fight me like a man? Or is that little stick not powerful enough for a real fight?" The Tevinter sneered, before launching another spell at him, a lightning spell this time, clearly designed to sap her friend's mana.

Harry sidestepped the bolt casually then raised his own wand, finally going on the offensive. A pair of purple bolts leapt off his wand, and the Tevinter twirled his staff, an arcane shield erupting between them. The bolts thumped into the shield and it shattered, but the Magister was already moving lashing out with bolts of lightning.

Harry ignored them, taking another bolt on a shield as he brought his magic to bear. It was a strange thing to watch, Merrill would reflect later, Harry barely flinched as the bolt struck his shield his wand moving like the baton of a conductor. Except instead of music accompanying each flick, there was an eruption of light from the point. She didn't know what the spells were but it was almost beautiful at first. Red, purple, red, pink, green, red, purple, orange. The magister was silent now as he struggled to withstand or dodge the magic coming at him. She even saw a Templar stagger as the circle in front of him took a bolt.

Finally she heard Harry sigh, and saw him shake his head, and in moments it was over, a trio of spells erupted from his wand. Where the spells struck the ground erupted, explosions shook the square, tossing the Magister off his feet. Another pair of spells lashed out and the man screamed as a dull crack was heard when the second impacted on his arm.

Then, as the man stumbled back trying to bring his staff to bear, another brace of red bolts streaked across the space between them battering his wounded form and the man keeled over onto his face. And with that, it was over. And Merrill felt relief.

* * *

The crowd was surprisingly silent in the quiet that followed. Harry didn't know it but, battles between mages in Thedas tended to either be extremely short, or extremely long. With the opponents either clearly a poor match, one superior in every way to the other. Or long winded affairs as two mages battered against each other in epic, and very flashy battles.

Thus his battle against the Tevinter Magister, whose name he had not yet heard, would be noted as somewhat odd. The Magister was well known as being a powerful mage from a realm which allowed mages free rein in which to study their art. He, an apparently low born, possible apostate mage of the south, had withstood the man's attacks for a time, with little apparent effort, before lashing out in a flurry of quick, but destructive spells which had, despite lacking the sort of flare and flash people expected, overwhelmed the Magister's defences.

Some would later say it was rather disappointing to witness, others, usually the more well versed present said it sent a shiver down their spine. This boy, had apparently casually evaluated the threat his opponent posed before rapidly dispatching him at his own whim.

Finally the Templars turned to look expectantly at the Magistrate who had remained silent throughout the fighting. He nodded silently in answer and when the circle was released, Merrill sighed in relief.

The Orlesian stepped forward, as the Templars relaxed and raised his voice. "The duel is over!" He called, and the crowd seemed to take this as permission to begin murmuring amongst themselves. "Ser, may I ask as to the state of your opponent, I must determine how to proceed from here."

Harry took a moment to realize the man was speaking to him, and reported what he'd hit the Tevinter with. "He was thrown off his feet by the explosive spells, but I do not think he was seriously harmed by them. I broke his arm with that next hit, and then put him out with a couple stunners. He'll be awake in a few hours I expect."

The Magistrate considered that then nodded, "Very well, it may actually have been easier had he been killed, politically speaking, but that is neither here nor there for you." He turned back to the crowd.

"Tevinter Diplomat to the Orlesian city of Jader, Amulteev Alomandavus the third, has been defeated in honourable combat! Due to his actions, abhorrent heretofore, and his invocation as a foreign mage for an honour duel. All belongings and property upon Orlesian soil, are hereby confiscated!" he declared, someone in the back actually cheered at that Harry noted absently as he tried to ignore the feeling of unease in his gut. Trying to stifle it he kicked away the fallen Magister's staff just in case.

He noted the elf girl was sobbing, the tremors wracking her body as Hermione held her gently. The Magistrate turned his eyes upon Harry. "Mister…" He trailed off indicating he was asking for his name.

"Potter." Harry stated shortly.

The man nodded slightly then turned back to the crowd. "Mister Potter, again considering the Tevinter Magister's nature and behaviour, you are hereby forgiven the striking of an aristocrat." The crowd was nodding now and breaking up as people lost interest, matters were in hand after all. The magistrate lowered his voice to a more normal cadence approaching him. "You are also hereby awarded, as is our law, all lands, properties and titles formerly associated with Amulteev Alomandavus within Orlesian lands."

Harry fought the urge to cringe. "That isn't necessary, I simply wanted to stop the man abusing her…"

The man chuckled, sounding somewhat amused and relieved at the same time. "I'm afraid once again you have little choice. You see you must see to those who relied upon him and his estate for care. Else they be ceded to the Crown of Orlais."

Harry raked a hand back through his hair irritably. "Which is bad why exactly?"

"Mister Potter, if I may this indeed might not normally concern the victor of such a duel. And normally I would simply accept your desire to see matters turned over to others, however I can see you are a man who values justice and fair treatment so I will explain." He offered politely. "Should you refuse to see to these things yourself the lands, and all associated matters would fall to a new Aristocrat selected, by long and arduous process by the Empress and her court. In the meantime before matters were settled no Landlord would be available to care for and protect those on the lands Amulteev Alomandavus controlled. Many would suffer in the absence of such administration, though many might still consider it preferable to being under that boor's yoke."

He saw Harry was beginning to understand so he pressed on. "Upon successful transfer of control to a new member of the Aristocracy, assuming it was not simply turned over to the next Tevinter Diplomat who came along…Taxes would be levied in order to change affairs within the associated lands to suit the new owner's tastes. Such taxes would invariably make things harder on those who lived there. Paid staff, such as they are, would likely be hired and fired carelessly in order to satisfy the new owner. And while yes, the slaves you seem to care for would be freed…it is almost certain that no provisions would be made for them by the new land owner. They would be helpless."

Harry wanted to bark and snap at the man, and might have, even given the man's calm and polite assistance so far. Were it not that the slave girl had begun to weep harder at the mention of the new circumstances she'd likely find herself in. Being free was immensely preferable in general to being a slave, but not when it would see you cast out, without home, food, clothing or any other resources to allow you the chance to improve your life. Freedom in that fashion would be a death sentence for many.

Harry sighed in aggravation, looking to Hermione and Merrill. "What do you two think. It's sounding like I don't really have an option."

Hermione, to his surprise, as he now found himself apparently owning several slaves, snorted in amusement. "Honestly Harry, how is it we always find ourselves in such absurd positions?" She laughed, before shaking her head and sighing. "It's not like you could have responded any other way Harry. So this will need to be dealt with. Though I suppose this means we're going on a detour now?"

He nodded, relaxing somewhat at her tacit approval. "How about you Merrill?"

"We have to help these people, I can't imagine how many more there might be like her if this man was a land owner…I think you did the right thing." She assured him.

He nodded, considering the girl who was rapidly calming, as they seemed to turn away from simply abandoning her now. "How many others like her are in the city?" He asked. "Where are this…man's, lands and such?"

The Magistrate cocked his head. "Are you asking if he had more slaves with him, or if there are other slaves belonging to others in the city. The answer either way is no. Magister Alomandavus came to the city today in the company of her, and a small unit of mercenaries. Who are waiting outside the gate for his return. It is likely that word has already reached them of what has happened. As their contract was with him…well I would not expect them to remain long."

He shrugged then paced slightly as he thought. "His lands are not far really. There is a large bay just east of here, which meets the Frostback Mountains. His lands were a single large island within that bay which encompassed a couple small towns as I recall, a number of farms, a mine and his estate. In addition to a great deal of forest, tractable land and admittedly a bit of swamp. The people of the island will be informed of your coming should you accept. They are…known to be a somewhat odd people, being a mixture of Fereldens and Orlesians for the most part, but accepted as hard working folk when they venture here."

Harry sighed. "I guess we'll be headed there next, we will need to get matters sorted, if we're ever to see to our…other matters." Harry hedged, not really looking to announce what they were up to in the middle of a crowded market. "How do we get there?"

"Boats depart for the island from a small village known as Mur Blanc. It is likely the…former owner's personal vessel will be there waiting for his return. Messages will be sent by rider ahead of you so they do not trouble you." The magistrate offered.

Harry eyed him suspiciously. "Why are you so helpful…"

The man simply chuckled. "I told you did I not, you 'inherited' that chein's titles as well as his property. You may not be a diplomat of Tevinter, as that is a title only they may bestow, however you have gained the title of Earl of the Isle of Blackwell. As well as the associated title as a Chevalier of the realm. Congratulations…You outrank me." He noted dryly.

Harry groaned. "Great, just what I needed, titles! Am I wrong in assuming these titles come with expectations…Merlin! I just inherited a bunch of slaves, what in the—"

Hermione spoke up cutting off his tirade. "Harry, we'll see to that soon enough knowing you. Just keep it together and we'll all get it sorted."

The magistrate nodded. "She is right ser. As a man of standing you must now look to maintaining your poise, at the very least it will help you manage in troubles to come. Now, as…interesting as this was I believe I would like to get you out of my city for a while if at all possible, lest you cause even more havoc." The man joked lightly. "I will have a guard ensure you are seen safely to your newly inherited transportation, so you may be on your way. As you are mages, am I right to assume you have the girl's health in hand?"

Harry nodded, Hermione had become very talented at healing magic, that didn't even take into account Merrill's talents, which he was largely unaware of, or the potions stockpile they had in the tent.

"Very well, Guard Sergeant?" The man called to a loitering watchman. "See these four out the gate to the former emissary's wagons would you? Good day to you all." he murmured that last before walking away gesturing for the Templars to follow him. Which they did grudgingly. It didn't escape Harry's notice the Tevinter was still passed out face down on the ground. He wasn't feeling a pressing need to wake him. If the man got rolled for his clothes before he woke, he wouldn't shed a tear.

Finally Harry turned to regard the girls, and he softened seeing the slave girl had basically cried herself unconscious. Not that he blamed her, she was sporting a lot of bruises and had been through quite a shock just now he was sure.

"Mione, if you could get her on a stretcher and float her along with us that'd be appreciated, we'll set camp outside the wall tonight I think and see about fixing her up. Merrill if you could keep her company I want to discuss something with the guardsman."

Hermione nodded, then chuckled. "Try not to break him Harry."

* * *

Now Lirris was confused. She'd found the little band of Eluvian hunters alright. It wasn't that hard, considering she'd known they were headed for the stables near the east gate. Add to that the duel the male managed to get himself into with that Magister trash and there might as well have been a beam of light from the sky showing their position.

At first she'd assumed the duel was merely a spat between two mages, over some perceived insult, and, she learned in a way it was, but it had resulted from the male she'd been tailing objecting to the Tevinter's treatment of his slave. If she'd been there she likely would have tried to slip a knife in the bastard herself!

However that was not what confused her, not even the start. Many people objected to slavery, and it was comforting that this group searching for Eluvians were among them. However this largely unassuming human mage from the south had utterly dominated a high ranking Magister from Tevinter in personal combat.

Then, in the aftermath, during which time she'd hidden herself from view so as to continue listening in, he'd expressed apparent disbelief at the legal repercussions of the duel. How was it, that a relatively finely dressed, exceedingly well trained Mage, was so utterly ignorant of duelling custom? It was her impression Mages always knew such things in case they ended up fighting each other…though that may have been a mistaken assumption on her part.

She'd then watched in astonishment as the male grudgingly accepted his circumstances and requested the female human provide a stretcher. Just where he thought the woman would get one had been a mystery until the woman had conjured one from thin air.

Now, as she stood quietly in the shadows she watched as the male approached the guard summoned to see them from the city. "Excuse me officer?" He greeted quietly as he approached the watchman.

The watchman in question gave him a funny look upon determining he was in fact referring to him, "I am sorry ser, but I am not an Officer, I only have the rank of Sergeant." The man admitted in poor common.

The young man apologized. "Not your fault, where I hail from all law enforcement personnel are referred to as officer." Lirris made a note of that, perhaps it would tell Briala just where these people came from? "Regardless I just wanted to ask if we'll be safe should we make camp a short distance outside the wall. This…girl, needs healing and we wish to see to that sooner rather than later."

The watchman nodded. "Ah, yes, you will be safe. There is much space for travelling merchants within sight of the wall. And bandits do not dare attack so close to us."

The young man bobbed his head in acceptance, but his expression hardened. "If I may ask, why is it that all are safe from bandits so long as they are in sight of the walls, but the Watch did nothing as this girl was beaten in the streets?"

The Guard sighed. "Bad business that, no? Were the man simply a traveller, or even a citizen of Jader we would have stepped in, however we are well aware of that chein, and the immunity his position affords him. We could do nothing without risking Tevinter's ire, or our own lives for striking an Aristocrat. It is good, yes? That you stepped in, another mage capable of challenging him? A watch officer would have been killed easily by such a skilled mage."

The young man seemed to ease as the watchman explained. Lirris was less certain, what the watchman said was true, to an extent, many would have stepped in. But many more wouldn't, simply because she had been a Knife Ear. "Very well," The man accepted. "If you'll see us to the gates, we'll set camp a short distance from the gates."

Lirris watched them until they were out of sight. She'd need to update that message for Briala before she sent it off. And then she'd catch up to these ones outside the gate. Something told her it would be a long night. But first...As her quarry exited the city she looked around before stepping from the shadows, just long enough to plant her boot in the still unconscious Tevinter man's crotch before hurrying off.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** And that's all I wrote. Sadly. Still not sure why I gave up on this idea. May need to revisit it. Finally, as remarked upon in previous chapter's notes. The PM notification email feature of FF is not working at present. As such should you desire to see any replies I might make to your reviews, please check the site itself.


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